


Collision Course

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Series: The Parallel Variations [4]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Single Dad AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: Jack Kelly has sworn off of dating, and he's not going back.Enter David Jacobs.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: The Parallel Variations [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934071
Comments: 431
Kudos: 177





	1. New Year, New Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm Finn and I have _no_ self control. I had an idea for this yesterday and now I've committed to as slow a slow burn as I can stand. 
> 
> This is another branch off of the NMAU timeline, like There's Always Room for You. It shares Parallel as a prequel with TARFY and the NMAU proper. If you haven't read Parallel/the NMAU that's cool! Everything you need to know will be explained in this story :)

Jack is _done_. He’s done with dating, done with how shit he always feels about himself when it falls apart, done with the time and energy he’s thrown into countless relationships that just keep fucking falling through.

He can be single, right? He knows how to do that. He –

He does know how to do that, right?

Fuck, okay. Maybe this is going to be harder than he thought.

The point is, he’s determined to give up dating for good. Crutchie is always telling him that he’s good enough on his own, right? Maybe if he’s not watching one relationship after another crash and burn he might actually be able to figure out how to believe that.

Maybe.

(Or, at least, maybe if he’s not constantly getting _told_ he’s not good enough for other people, he can actually start being good enough for himself.)

One way or another, there’s really only one way to start this new Jack Kelly Life Plan.

_JACK’S EXES CLUB_

_Me: hey dumbasses I’m changing the name of the groupchat. Pls don’t change it back._

There’s some uproar and some teasing, but nobody changes the name back, which Jack is counting as a win. The closest it seems like anyone comes is Spot complaining, but even Spot leaves it.

_IDIOT SQUAD_

_Spotty boy: I hate this more than the idea that I’d be in the exes club_

_Me: u married Race dude u may not be in the exes club but ur def in the idiot squad_

_Me: no offense racer_

_Racetrack: none taken you’re not wrong_

Crutchie comes into Jack’s bedroom, leaning against the wall just inside the door.

“No more Exes Club?” he asks, his voice soft.

Jack shrugs, trying to make it seem like a totally casual normal thing that’s happening and not the biggest deal of Jack’s fucking life. “Yeah, I just – I don’t actually like it, you know?”

“Oh,” says Crutchie. His eyes are wide, and Jack is sure he’s picked up all the layers Jack isn’t ready to say. “Yeah, okay. I get that.”

“Yeah,” Jack says again, a little shaky. “I just – yeah.”

“Yeah,” Crutchie echoes, nodding.

“I think I’m gonna give up dating for a while, actually,” Jack says.

“That’ll be good for you, I think,” Crutchie replies. “You could use a break.”

“Yeah,” Jack says for what must be the hundredth time. “I think so, too.”

He spends the next three days overhauling his bedroom. Stuff he associates with dating as a concept gets tossed, donated, or stored somewhere else. Stuff he associates with specific relationships mostly gets put into a box in the closet. A few paintings he shouldn’t still be holding onto get given to friends or put up for sale in his online shop.

The first test of his resolve comes a month later in the form of one Katherine Plumber. She’s new to the World as well, and they’re in a few orientation days together, but he doesn’t introduce himself right away. She’s very pretty, with copper hair and a million freckles and outfits that are always stunning and perfectly fit. Jack can also tell from the handful of times that he’s seen her around that she’s got a fiery personality and no shortage of sass.

In short, she’s the kind of person Jack could fall head over heels for in about twenty seconds if he let himself.

He’s determined – fucking _determined_ – not to.

“Hey,” he says, a few days after the first time he sees her, after he’s sure he can do it with his head on straight. “Plumber, right? I’m Jack, Jack Kelly.”

She eyes him, slightly suspiciously. “Yeah, Katherine. You’re a photographer, right?”

“I am. You’re a reporter,” says Jack. “I’ve read that story of yours everybody’s passing around, you’re really good.”

Katherine tips her head to one side, looking a little surprised. “Oh, I – thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jack says.

“I’m new to the city,” Katherine says slowly, like she’s trying to decide whether to say it as the words are coming out of her mouth. “I don’t suppose you know somewhere nearby that’s good for lunch?”

Jack grins. “You know, I think I do. I’d be glad to show you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” says Katherine, smiling.

The thing is, Jack is right. Kath is absolutely someone he could fall in love with – but he doesn’t.

Instead, Jack makes a friend who’s really truly just a friend with no other feelings involved for what might kind of be the first time since he was a kid. And God, is Katherine Plumber a good friend. She’s funny as hell, and they spend entirely too much time sitting at, near, or on each other’s desks talking about anything and everything (and everyone in the office), and she also quickly becomes Jack’s favorite writer to be assigned to for joint projects. They have similar outlooks on life and the state of the world and also sports of all things.

He even introduces her to the Exes Cl- the idiot squad, which goes something like:

“Hey, guys, this is my friend Kath from work.”

“Your _friend_?” Albert repeats, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jack nods firmly. “My friend.”

“Not your girlfriend?” Sarah clarifies.

“Not my girlfriend,” Jack repeats.

“Huh,” says Elmer. “Would’ja look at that.”

“Lay off him, guys,” Crutchie says, but honestly it’s halfhearted at best and Jack can’t really even blame him.

Jack points out his friends and names them for Katherine, rather than letting them introduce themselves. God knows he’s not prepared mentally or emotionally to hear them rattle off who they are and when they dated him today.

(He’s trying really hard to train them out of it, but since he’s having a hard time getting the words “hey, that makes me feel awful about myself as a person” out of his mouth, it’s been to mixed success at best.)

“Why do half of your friends have made up names, Jack?” Katherine asks.

Jack laughs. “Because we were weird as fuck when we were teenagers. Buttons ain’t even here, his is at least as bad as Racetrack over there.”

“Did _you_ have a dumb nickname?”

“No.”

“He’s lying!” Race calls from the far end of the table. “We called him Cowboy!”

Katherine snorts. “Are you for real?”

“I had an aesthetic,” Jack admits. “And an obsession with painting the desert.”

“Oh my god,” says Katherine, smiling delightedly. “Race! Please, please tell me you have pictures.”

“Do I ever!” Race replies, equally delighted. He jumps up from his seat, scrambling around the table with his phone out to show off.

Jack is blushing like crazy, but he’s happy. It’s nice to see his new friend mesh so naturally in with his older ones, even without the usual thread of connection.

It feels really good, this whole not being in a relationship thing. Jack has spent so much time trying to figure out how to be right for other people that he’d kind of missed the boat on figuring out how to be right for _himself_. There are little quirks he hadn’t let himself embrace before – he’s not bringing the cowboy aesthetic back or anything, but, like, it’s kind of fun to let himself like things without worrying about what other people will think.

He’s still kind of figuring the whole thing out but he’s not sure he wants to go back.

There’s a night when he and Kath are in Milwaukee on a work trip, and they end up sharing a hotel room just for convenience’s sake. They lay awake entirely too late – it feels a lot like sleepovers Jack used to have with Race and Crutchie when they were in middle school – staring up at the ceiling and talking in the dark.

“Your friends told me you used to date around a lot,” Katherine says. “Why’d you stop?”

“Felt like shit,” Jack replies, more honestly than he has been yet with his other friends, save Crutchie who doesn’t really need telling. “Like, a guy can only take so many relationships falling out from under him before he starts wondering if _he’s_ the problem, you know? So I stopped seeing people and started workin’ on myself, y’know?”

“That’s really – wow. I’m sorry you felt that way.”

“Is what it is. It was always easier to laugh along with the guys about it but, like, the exes club thing always kinda stung. I’m tryin’ to get them to stop.”

“Shit, Jack, really?”

“Yeah, but don’t – it’s not a big deal or anything, okay?”

Katherine makes a little noise of distaste, but doesn’t argue with him. “You think you’ll ever date again?”

“The longer I don’t, the more I feel like I won’t,” Jack admits. As easy he’s finding it to spill this to Kath in the dark of their room, he’s itching to change the subject. “What about you, Kath, anybody got your eye?”

“I’ve been kind of into Sarah for a while,” Katherine says. “But it’s this whole thing, you know. Like, I’m flirting with her but I’m never sure if she’s flirting back? Does she like me or is she just _nice_ , Jack?”

Jack laughs. “Just ask her out, Katie, it ain’t _that_ big a risk.”

Katherine’s sharp intake of breath startles Jack – he didn’t think it was that groundbreaking of a statement.

“What? Is somethin’ wrong?”

“Please don’t call me Katie.” Her voice sounds all wrong, strangled and weak.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” Jack says. “Kath, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Katherine replies, her voice still quiet and broken. “I just – I don’t like it.”

“Okay. You can tell me if you’re not okay, though. You know that, right?”

“I know. I’m – Jack, I’m going to go to sleep. Early morning tomorrow and all.”

Jack lets out a slow breath. Shit, this is like a whole thing, and he’s just stumbled into it. Still, he gets the feeling pressing won’t do much but push Kath away. “Okay. Good night, Kathy.”

“Good night,” Katherine says. He hears her roll over, but it’s a long time before her breathing evens out into sleep.

Jack’s not quite sure what to make of it, but he doesn’t have the energy to unpack it right now.

The next time they’re out with the whole group, Jack nudges Katherine toward Sarah. “Go getcha girl.”

“Jack!” Katherine hisses, her eyes wide, “I can’t just –“

“Do it,” Jack insists, nudging her again. “Betcha lunch tomorrow she says yes.”

Katherine buys Jack lunch the next day.

And that’s the first taste Jack gets of how much he loves helping _other_ couples find each other – which comes as a bit of a shock even to Jack, who would’ve thought (had he thought about it) that it’d make him feel that same sticky, heavy feeling that his own relationships had. But no, this is light and happy and it makes Jack feel really good to see how happy Kath and Sarah are in their relationship and know _he_ helped push them together.

\--

It’s been about four years since the last time Jack went on a date with anybody, and he’s the happiest he’s ever been with himself as a person.

Which is maybe kind of sad.

Not that he hasn’t been on a date in a while – he’s decided for sure now that that isn’t something he wants to get back into – but that he was that down on himself for that long before. That he let his friends tease him for something he felt so fucking awful about all the goddamn time, just because articulating how he felt made it real, and it was safer to just laugh along with all their jokes.

(He still hasn’t put it out there in so many words, but by now they’ve all more or less gotten the picture. Every once in a while someone still says something, but it’s usually met with somebody unsubtly smacking their arm while someone else frowns apologetically at him. He’s not entirely sure that’s better, but at least they’re trying.)

So yeah, Jack is happy.

“You know what’s, like, the one bummer about this whole single life thing?” Jack says one afternoon, not even looking up from his sketchbook.

“I’m sure I don’t,” Crutchie replies. “Enlighten me.”

“I always kinda figured I’d be a parent one day, you know? And, like, I’d still love that, but –“ He trails off, shrugging.

“Well, you don’t _have_ to have a partner to be a parent,” says Crutchie.

“What?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be easy,” Crutchie says, “but you make good money and you’ve got a stable job. If you had your own place with enough space, you could definitely afford to raise a kid on your own.” He tosses a pillow at Jack. “I shouldn’t have to remind _you_ of all people that adoption is an option.”

Jack swats the pillow away before it can hit him. “No, I – you’re right. I guess it just didn’t occur to me that I could _choose_ to be a single parent.”

Crutchie shrugs. “Bryan did it. So did Medda.”

And that’s the last piece of Jack’s puzzle falling into place, really. Moving out of the apartment he’s shared with Crutchie since college is a little bittersweet, but worth it for the fact that the place he gets on his own has room for him to spread out his art into a corner of the living room rather than using his bedroom as his studio space, and a space for his future kid to call their own.

The first time Jack sets eyes on Sawyer Lewis, he has a gut feeling that he’s looking at his future child. There’s something about Sawyer that Jack feels an instant connection to. Sawyer has the biggest, saddest, tiredest grey eyes Jack has ever seen on a six-year-old and Jack can feel that gaze in his soul.

But he _knows_ – knows for absolutely certain – the fourth time they meet.

Because Sawyer bursts into tears halfway through the conversation, curling into a little ball.

“Woah, woah, woah, Soy, kiddo, what’s the matter?” Jack says, startled.

“You don’t want me, Jack,” Sawyer says. “I won’t be a good kid. I’m broken.”

And _oh_ , if that doesn’t speak to the part of Jack that spent eight years trying to make himself good enough for everybody else in his life and feeling like he could never succeed.

“I’m sure you aren’t, Sawyer. There’s no such thing,” Jack says gently.

“But you want a son, and I’m not a boy,” Sawyer says quietly. “I’m s’posed’ta be a boy and I’m not and I –“ Sawyer breaks off with a sob. Jack’s heart breaks a little, and all he wants to do is make Sawyer feel safe and loved, because no kid should feel like _this_. He feels a little out of his depth, but he wants to help.

“Hey, hey,” says Jack, “it’s okay. You’re okay. I got you. I didn’t go looking for a boy, kiddo, I was looking for a kid I felt like I could see myself raising.” He slides off of his chair so he can kneel in front of Sawyer, hoping he might be able to get the kid to actually look at him again. “And, bud, I can see myself raising you. Whether you’re a boy or a girl or anything else, okay?”

“Really?” Sawyer asks, looking at Jack with those wide, sad eyes.

“Really.” Jack ruffles Sawyer’s fiery red hair. “Is there something else you’d rather be called than Sawyer?”

That gets a small head shake.

“Okay, Sawyer it is. If you change your mind about that let me know, okay?” Jack says.

Sawyer nods.

“And you’re not a boy?”

Another nod.

“Are you a girl, or neither, bud?”

Sawyer hums, thinking it over. “Neither.”

“Okay.”

From there, Jack asks Sawyer about pronouns, which ends up turning into Jack explaining the concept of pronouns because the word is unfamiliar to Sawyer (which doesn’t particularly surprise Jack, since Sawyer is six years old and is still learning the names for different kinds of words in school), which is a conversation that ends with Sawyer crawling into Jack’s lap so that they can look things up on Jack’s phone together.

(Sawyer decides, after extensive deliberation, that they’d like to be _they_ for now. Jack gives them a hug and makes sure they know he supports them and he’s proud of them. It shouldn’t matter, since they haven’t known each other long yet, but Sawyer beams and Jack realizes it’s the first time he’s seen the kid really smile since they met.)

Jack leaves that day knowing for one hundred percent sure that he needs to be Sawyer Lewis’s dad. He’s spent the last few months learning what he can about parenting, but now he throws himself into it that much more, determined to be the best parent he possibly can for this kid.

The adoption process is a _process_ , and Jack calls his mom about eight hundred times throughout – not for advice or anything, although she readily gives it, but just to thank her over and over for being his mom at all.

And in the end, newly seven-year-old Sawyer Lewis is Sawyer Kelly and they and Jack spend the weekend decorating their brand new bedroom.

“Do you want to do any afterschool activities, bud?” Jack asks. “Or do you want to wait a little while and get used to the new school?”

Sawyer shrugs. “I dunno, I – um. What would I be allowed to do?”

“Anything you want, Soy, for real,” says Jack. “You could do soccer or ballet or art classes or whatever else catches your eye, okay? Whatever makes you happy, we’ll make it work.”

“For sure?” says Sawyer.

“For sure,” Jack confirms.

Sawyer grins. “I’ll think about it.”

Jack ruffles their hair. “You do that, bud. In the meantime, help me pick out some curtains for your room.”

Jack and Sawyer settle into their new routine remarkably easily – it doesn’t _all_ come easy, of course, but actually sharing space and living together and Jack figuring out how to take care of this still very quiet, shy child falls into place without too much fuss. For now, at least.

It’s a good thing Soy gets along well with their new cousin Frankie, because Jack spends a lot of time at Race and Spot’s place picking their brains about parenting and schedules and just life in general. Frankie’s a little younger than Sawyer, but it’s a start.

Sawyer eventually decides, after much exposure to Frankie and Race, that they’d be interested in maybe trying dance for a while, so Jack signs them up for one class a week at Race’s studio. It’s a class Race himself teaches, so it has that little element of familiarity in the new activity – and since Jack’s still trying to help Sawyer feel comfortable and grounded with the family, he’s glad to give the kid an opportunity to bond a little more with Uncle Race.

Jack picks Sawyer up from their first class and knows immediately that this was a good idea. Sawyer bounds up to him, grinning widely, babbling all about what they’d done in class and how fun it was and how silly Uncle Race is (“His glasses came off halfway through class, Dad, it was so funny. He was teaching us how to do a turn on our tiptoes and they just flew off and hit the mirror.”). It makes Jack so, so happy to see Sawyer opening up a little and smiling so easily.

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows by any means – there are still some growing pains when it comes to Jack figuring out how to parent, and Sawyer is still often so quiet and withdrawn that just convincing them to tell him what they want for dinner is an hour long production – but they’re getting by.

Sawyer really hasn’t been in Jack’s life long, in the grand scheme of things, but now that they’re here he can’t imagine his life any other way.

He might not be the best dad ever – yet – but he’s learning. And Sawyer, bless them, is being remarkably patient with him while he figures the whole thing out.

One afternoon, Jack is walking into the studio to pick Soy up from class, thinking distractedly about the mural Race and Albert are commissioning for the ground floor here and Sawyer’s request that they go to the zoo this weekend to look at lizards, and he walks smack into another human being.

He sends the other person sprawling, because Jack on a mission is a force to be reckoned with.

“Oh my god,” Jack says, holding a hand out to help the poor soul up. “I am so, so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I –“ he trails off, shaking his head as he meets the eye of the man he just knocked to the floor. His distractingly striking blue-grey eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” the man says. “Really, I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He laughs. “I didn’t even see you coming.”

“Sorry,” Jack says again.

“It’s fine,” the guy says again. He smiles, holding a hand out to Jack. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Jack shakes his hand. “My kid’s new.” He chuckles. “To me and the studio, if I’m honest. My name’s Jack, Jack Kelly.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” the guy replies. “I’m David Jacobs.”


	2. Hit or Miss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so touched and delighted by the response this fic has gotten already!! I'm really excited about this one and I'm glad you guys are too!

“Nice to meet’cha, Davey,” Jack says, grinning. “Much as I’d love to stop and chat and maybe apologise a little more, Sawyer’s class is about to let out.”

“So is Leah’s,” Davey replies, a laugh in his voice. “Is Sawyer in Tony’s class?”

Jack nods and starts toward the stairs. He’s not surprised that Davey follows. “Race – Tony, that is – is my brother-in-law. We figured it’d be a good start for Soy to be in class with somebody they know.”

“Oh!” says Davey. He’s two steps or so behind Jack. “You’re Tony and Sean’s Jack! I’ve heard all about you – Sawyer’s recently adopted, right?”

“Uh, yeah?” Jack says, looking back over his shoulder.

“The Higgins-Conlons are my neighbors,” Davey says. “They’re my best friends, too, and Leah is the same age as Frankie.”

“ _Oh,_ ” says Jack, because while he doesn’t have a super strong awareness of _David’s_ existence, he’s heard all about Leah from his nephew. “Your Leah is Frankie’s best friend Leah who I never stop hearing about, okay. I gotcha.” They come to a stop just outside of the classroom, since the lesson isn’t quite over yet. “I think Spot – uh, Sean – has been trying to get you and me in the same room since I adopted Soy, actually. You’re single, too, right? I mean, you’re a single parent?”

Davey nods. “Pretty much since Leah was born.”

“Man, I gotta pick your brain,” Jack says. “If that’s cool with you, I mean.”

“Yeah, of course,” replies Davey. “You want to exchange phone numbers? We can get together sometime?”

“That would be great,” says Jack.

The door opens and kids flood out, and Sawyer, Frankie, and a little girl with her hair in space buns who must be Leah are last out of the room, walking with Race.

“- well, we’ll have to see what your Dad says, Bee,” Race is saying. He spots Davey. “Oh! Speak of the devil. Hey, Daves! You wanna go to the zoo on Saturday?”

“Sure,” says Davey, smiling brightly. “Weather’s supposed to be pretty nice.”

“Great!” Race says.

“Hey, we’re goin’ to the zoo on Saturday,” Jack says. Sawyer scurries over to him.

“That’s why Franks and Leah wanted to go, Dad,” Sawyer says in their usual soft tone. “I said we were gonna look at the lizards.”

Jack ruffles their hair. “I see. And do Frankie and Leah also want to see the lizards?”

“They do,” Sawyer says.

“Guess we’ll all have to go together, then,” says Jack, smiling. He looks up at his brother-in-law, then at Davey. “If that’s cool with you guys, that is.”

“A’course,” says Race. “Daves?”

“Hey, I’m always happy to have somebody else around to deal with your nonsense,” Davey says. “Jack, if you’re willing to put up with the Higgins-Conlon-Jacobs family shenanigans, be my guest.”

“I do love some shenanigans. What do you say, Soy?”

Sawyer shrugs. “I like Frankie and Leah.”

Now, Jack knows Sawyer. And knowing Sawyer, Jack sees this for what it is – as close to a _please Dad can we go with them?_ as he’s going to get. “Great! It’s a plan!”

\--

Jack exchanges phone numbers with Davey before they leave, and he gets added to a new group chat a few hours later.

_DAD SQUAD (2.0)_

_Davey: Hey! New chat with Jack since we’ve got a field trip to plan!_

_Spotty boy: oh hey you met Jack cool_

_Racetrack: Sawyer’s in my Tuesday afternoon with LF_

_Spotty boy: okay yeah that’ll do it_

_Me: why 2.0?_

_Racetrack: our other dadchat is dad squad & daves hates naming things_

_Davey: it’s true it’s a miracle we have anything to call my child_

_Davey: she didn’t actually have a name for the first few hours bc we never chose one_

Jack snorts, setting his phone aside. “Hey, Soy, what do you want for dinner?”

Sawyer shrugs noncommittally.

“C’mon, bud, help me out here,” says Jack. “How about this – mac and cheese or breakfast for dinner?”

“What kind of breakfast?” Sawyer asks tentatively.

“Waffles?” Jack offers. “We got that Mickey Mouse waffle maker at the store last week, remember?”

Sawyer hums, considering. “Mickey waffles sounds good.”

Jack punches the air in triumph. “Heck yeah, Mickey waffles! Do you want to help or do you want to color while I make them?”

“Is it okay if I color?”

“It always is, kiddo. Maybe we can paint together after dinner?”

Sawyer grins, nodding.

Jack waves Sawyer toward the dining table, where there’s a coloring book and box of crayons out from yesterday, and moves to start pulling dinner together. He’s gonna call this one a win – he’s been trying to help Sawyer feel more comfortable expressing what they want and asking for things, and choosing dinner every couple of nights is the primary battlefield. And anyway, _Jack_ wanted waffles. He knows he could’ve just decided without having Sawyer weigh in, but he’s trying to keep the routine (two nights of Dad choices, one night Sawyer has to pick, a repeating cycle). Maybe he weighted it a little in his favor though.

Anyway the point is that he got Sawyer to commit to a choice in under five minutes _and_ they’d asked specifically to do an activity they’re excited about. It’s a win, even if he had to manipulate the situation a little.

While he’s waiting on the waffle iron, he grabs his phone again.

_DAD SQUAD (2.0)_

_Me: hey no judgment I’m hopeless at it too_

_Me: it’s a good thing mine came with a name already attached_

_Racetrack: god, he’s right. Sean’s for shit at it, too, it’s a good thing you guys have me._

_Spotty boy: excuse me?? hcjndwhfc ringing any fucking bells??_

_Racetrack: yes, obviously. It’s the best winter holiday celebration name e v e r_

_Me: do i… do I want to know?_

_Davey: no. save yourself._

“Dad?”

“What’s up, Soy?”

“That waffle is done.”

“Oh!” Jack had been a little too absorbed in the conversation, apparently. He opens the iron and rescues the slightly overcooked waffle. “It’s just crispy. That’s fine. It’s fine! I’ll keep a closer eye on the next one. Thanks for catchin’ that, bud.”

Sawyer laughs. Sawyer’s laugh isn’t big or loud – it’s more of a subdued, breathy thing – but Jack still gets a warm glow of pride any time he can coax an audible laugh out of his usually subdued child. Even when it’s at his expense.

“Yeah, Dad,” Sawyer says, still grinning at him. “Sure.”

“Or you could come over here and help,” says Jack.

Sawyer holds up their coloring book, showing him the mostly finished page. “Nuh-uh. I’m almost done.”

“O _kay_ ,” Jack says, a little dramatically. “I know better than to interrupt an artist mid-work. I won’t even give you the waffle I burnt.”

“Only if you don’t burn any more,” says Sawyer.

“Oh! We got our sassy pants on now, do we?”

“Maybe.”

Jack laughs. “Yeah, okay. Food’s done, though, so put’chr crayons up.”

He gets the waffles organized onto plates and soaked in entirely too much syrup while Sawyer clears the table. They’re an odd mix of too crisp and slightly soggy, but if he’s honest Jack is still figuring out actually cooking like a real human person so he’s just grateful they’re edible.

“Did you have a good day at school and dance, bud?” Jack asks.

Sawyer nods, carefully chewing their bite of waffle before answering. “We did subtraction.”

“Oh, yeah?” says Jack.

“I asked my teacher what happens if you subtract seven from four,” Sawyer says slowly. “And she said it’s big kid math. But dad! Dad, it’s got to be less than zero!”

Jack chuckles. “Yeah, kiddo, it’s less than zero. I don’t remember when you learn about them, but there’s a thing called _negative numbers_ , and that’s what happens when you take a bigger number from a smaller number.”

“Makes sense,” says Sawyer, nodding.

“You like math, Sawyer?” Jack asks.

Sawyer gives a little shrug, but also nods. “Numbers are good.”

“You should talk about numbers with Uncle Race sometime,” Jack says. “He was going to be a physicist before he decided to be a dance teacher. Do you know what a physicist is?”

“No.”

“You should ask him, because I don’t know if I really do either.”

Sawyer giggles. “You’re silly, Dad.”

“I sure am trying to be.”

\--

Saturday dawns bright and early, and Jack wakes up to approximately nine thousand texts in the dadchat.

He goes to wake up Sawyer, only to find them sitting up cross-legged on their bed, flipping through a book.

“Oh, hey, you’re up,” Jack says, feeling a little silly even as he says it for how obvious a statement that was.

“I woke up a little while ago,” says Sawyer. “I couldn’t go back to sleep. I’m excited for the zoo.”

“Oh, good,” says Jack. He sits down next to Sawyer on the bed, ruffling their sleep-mussed hair. “What’cha readin’?”

Sawyer holds the book up to show him.

“Ooh, Click Clack Moo, good choice,” Jack says.

“Cows that type,” Sawyer adds, finishing the title with a nod.

“Getting hyped up to see the animals?”

Sawyer nods again.

“I don’t think the cows in the Farm in the Zoo have a typewriter,” Jack says, poking Sawyer’s side.

They giggle, shaking their head. “Nuh-uh. Real cows can’t type _, Dad_. No fingers.”

“No fingers, I see,” says Jack. “If we got them a specially adapted typewriter designed for hooves, do you think they could type?”

Sawyer hums, considering. “No. That would be an in-prac-tic-ly large typewriter.”

“ _Immm_ practically,” Jack corrects gently, emphasizing the m sound. “You’re right, that would be impractical, wouldn’t it? And anyway, what would cows type about?”

“Electric blankets,” Sawyer says, rolling their eyes and gesturing to the book.

“You’re right, what was I thinking,” says Jack. He kisses the top of Sawyer’s head, then stands up and moves to the dresser. “Okay, bud, what do you want to wear today?”

Sawyer bites their lip, taking a long moment to think it over. “Purple stripes and overalls?”

“Purple stripes and overalls!” Jack repeats, grinning. He digs the shirt Sawyer’s talking about out of the drawer first, then has to go rescue their overalls from the clean laundry basket. He tosses both to Sawyer. “Okay, bud, you get dressed, I’ll get dressed, and then we can have eggs and bacon for breakfast.”

Sawyer gives him a thumbs up.

“Alright,” says Jack. “Go team!”

Sawyer’s giggles follow Jack out of the room.

Breakfast is uneventful but delicious, and before long they’ve climbed into Jack’s car and are on their way to the zoo. Parking is pricey, but Jack knew that ahead of time – and anyway, there’s no entry fee. He’s pretty sure that the boys are members, though, which maybe Jack should look into given how excited Sawyer is about the animals. If they’re going to be coming here a lot he might as well support the zoo while they’re at it.

He spots the Higgins-Conlons and the Jacobses waiting by the tiger enclosure, just inside the gates. Sawyer doesn’t run ahead or try to drag Jack along to them, but he can feel them practically vibrating with excitement next to him.

“Sawyer!” Frankie calls, waving.

“Hi Sawyer!” Leah adds.

Sawyer waves silently, but smiles back with enough commitment that their dimples make a rare appearance.

There’s a man Jack hasn’t met standing next to Davey, but this must be the brother who’s come up a few times in the groupchat. He bears a strong resemblance to Davey, just as tall and stringbeany, with the same dark hair and light eyes, though his hair is a little longer and his shoulders a little broader.

“Jackie!” Race says, waving them over. “C’mere!”

“Only if you promise not to call me Jackie like we’re six years old,” Jack replies, laughing.

“Hey, it’s kinda cute,” Davey says. Jack is caught off guard by how straight he plays it, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “Going back to your childhoods.”

“Davey, man, Race didn’t even _know me_ when we were that little,” says Jack. “He ain’t got any claim on it.”

Davey laughs. “Well, can I use it? Only fair if you’re gonna insist on calling me Davey.”

Jack shrugs, smiling at him. “I guess you’re right.”

“This is my brother, Les, by the way,” Davey says, waving vaguely at him. “He’s part of the family.”

“Nice to meet you, Les,” says Jack.

“You too,” Les replies with a little wave.

“Now, I was told we were here for the reptile house,” Spot says, his eyebrows raised as he looks down at the kids.

“Lizards!” Sawyer says brightly.

“Let’s _go!”_ Leah says. She takes Sawyer’s hand in one of hers and Frankie’s in the other, dragging both of them along as she takes off at a near sprint.

“Leah Marie!” Davey calls. Leah comes to an abrupt halt. “I know you’re excited, baby, but you can’t run off.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Leah says.

“Can we try walking?” Race suggests.

The kids all nod, and they start going again at a more reasonable pace once Jack, Davey, Race, Spot, and Les catch up. Jack can tell Leah and Frankie have visited the zoo quite a few times, because they know exactly where they’re going.

“Leah’s a firecracker, I can already tell,” Jack says to Davey as they walk.

Davey nods. “It’s all I can do to keep up with her, some days. It’s good she’s got Frankie.”

“Somebody to work the energy out with,” says Jack, nodding along.

“How’s Sawyer?” Davey asks. “Sean said you’ve only had them a little while, right?”

“Adoption was official in July,” Jack replies, grinning. “So yeah, only a few months. They’re a quiet kid, a little scared of everything. Not that I can blame them, really. We’re working on it.”

“And it’s just you?” says Davey. “I mean, forgive me if that’s too personal or anything. I know we just met. But you wanted single dad advice, so –“

“Yeah,” Jack cuts in. He shrugs a little. They’re far enough away from the kids that it’s a relatively private conversation, but they’re all still well within view. Les is holding Frankie’s hand now, anyway, so they’re supervised. “I got fed up with how dating made me feel a couple’a years ago, and it took, like, an embarrassingly long time to realize that didn’t have to stop me from being a parent. And, like, I loved Sawyer the instant I met them, honestly. Those big ol’ eyes’a theirs? Heartbreakers.”

Davey gives that a little laugh in response. “Yeah, I can see it. Why embarrassing?”

“I was raised by an adoptive single parent,” Jack admits, his cheeks faintly pink. “So, like. I should’ve remembered that was an option, you know?”

“Yeah, okay,” Davey says, laughing fully now. “That’s a little – how?”

“I don’t know!” says Jack. It _is_ a little embarrassing to admit it out loud, but even though Davey’s laughing it doesn’t make him feel bad. Like, he feels stupid over it because he was stupid, not because he feels like he’s being judged.

It’s… new.

(It’s nice.)

“It’s nice that you chose it,” Davey says when he’s caught his breath again. “I bet Sawyer feels really loved; I’ve known you for four days and I can see how much you love that kid.”

“I really do,” Jack says. There’s something wistful in Davey’s tone, though – “I take it you didn’t? Choose it?”

“No,” Davey says quietly. “I don’t regret it for a second, I love Leah with all my heart but – no. Parenthood, _single_ parenthood – it wasn’t the plan.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says, “that was, like, super personal, I –“

“No, it’s alright,” Davey says quickly. “It’s not a secret or anything. Leah was born when I was twenty, and her mother left me a few months later. I don’t think any of that screams _planning_ , you know?”

Jack chuckles. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Are you two going to get over here and participate in this family bonding or do I have to come _get_ you?” Race shouts from where he, Spot, and the kids are crowded around a habitat window.

“We’re being summoned,” Davey says.

“Best not to keep him waiting. He pushed me off a roof once.”

“He _what?_ ”

“It was a low roof, we’d been drinking –“

Davey shakes his head, laughing. “Yeah, whatever you say.”

Sawyer’s favorite part of the reptile house turns out not to be any of the actual reptiles but the dark cave area where the bats live. They cling to Jack’s hand the whole time they’re inside, but as soon as they’re back in the light they beg to go back in and look at the bats some more.

Frankie opts to bypass the bats, because their little cave is “awful spooky, Uncle Jack.” Leah agrees emphatically, and they go ahead a little bit to look at some of the other small mammals.

Once Sawyer has had their fill of bats, they and Jack catch up with the Jacobses and Higgins-Conlons, just in time to weigh in on a Race and Spot debate in progress.

“Look, I’m just _saying_ alligators are cooler than crocodiles,” Race is saying.

Spot is pinching the bridge of his nose, his shoulders tense. “Tony, sweetness, they are _literally_ the same.”

“They aren’t!” says Race. “Alligators will see you later, and crocodiles will see you after a while!”

Les, who had been standing to one side with one hand over his mouth, _cackles_. He actually has to step away for a minute to contain himself.

“Did you rile him up just for that punchline, Racer?” Jack asks through his own laughter.

“You bet your butt I did.”

“You’re the actual worst, Tones,” Davey says. “That was _terrible_.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Sawyer says quietly.

“Hmm?” Jack says, crouching down to be more on a level with them.

“It’s a alligator and a crocodile talking to each other, right?” says Sawyer, their brow furrowed. “So the crocodile says ‘see you later, alligator,’ and the alligator says ‘after a while, crocodile’. The croc will see you later and the gator will see you after a while.”

Jack snorts. “You know what, bud? I think you’re right.” He stands up, looking back at Race and Spot. “They’re right.”

Race’s mouth is wide with shock, and Spot looks like he’s restraining himself from laughing out loud.

“Oh my god, Tones, you were bested by a seven-year-old,” Spot says, elbowing his husband. “Sawyer Kelly, you’re my hero.”

Sawyer looks up at Jack, confused.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” says Jack. He ruffles Sawyer’s hair.

Sawyer pushes his hand away. “ _Dad_ , it was neat.”

“Yeah, _dad_ ,” Race says, his tone playful.

“Alright,” Davey cuts in, clearly trying to bring some focus back to the conversation. “Where to next?”

“Farm in the Zoo!” Frankie says.

“Farm in the Zoo!” Leah echoes.

All eyes turn to Sawyer.

“Farm in the Zoo,” Sawyer agrees.

“Farm it is,” says Les, who has regained his composure and returned to the group. “Alright, kiddos, lead the way!”

\--

The day ends with Jack carrying Sawyer on his back up to their apartment, because Sawyer is worn the heck out.

“Did you have fun today, bud?” he asks after he sets Sawyer down on their bed.

“So much fun,” Sawyer says sleepily.

“Good,” says Jack. He ruffles Sawyer’s hair. “I think we’re gonna see a lot of those guys.”

Sawyer nods. “I like Frankie and Leah and Uncle Spot and Uncle Race and Les and David.”

“Oh, good,” says Jack, chuckling. “What about Dad, do I get a mention?”

Sawyer blinks up at him. “Well, I _love_ you, Dad.”

“Oh,” Jack replies, suddenly a little choked up. “I love you, too, Soy.”

He kisses the top of Sawyer’s head.

“What are we gonna do tomorrow, Dad?” Sawyer asks.

“I dunno, bud. Guess you’ll have to go to sleep and find out in the morning.”


	3. Dad Playdate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)

“Hey, Jack, it’s awfully late, is everything o-“

“David, what do I do with the tooth?”

“What the _fuck_?”

“Soy lost a tooth, Dave, and I did the whole exchange it for a coin thing tooth fairy style and now I just _have_ a _tooth_ what do I do with it?”

“I – shit, Jackie, I don’t even know. Bee hasn’t started losing teeth yet.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay. I’m gonna call – _shit_ , my mom never had kids this little! Uh, okay, I’m gonna – I’m gonna call Bry, I guess? Crutchie was a little kid once.”

“Good luck. Tell me what you find out.”

“Will do, thanks for – uh, nothing, actually, because you didn’t have an answer.”

Davey laughs, then almost immediately cuts himself off because this is a whispered late night phone conversation and he _will_ wake someone up in his house if he’s that loud.

“I tried!”

“Yeah, you tried,” Jack says, and he’s sure his smile is coming through in his voice. “Okay, I’m hanging up. Gotta call Bryan, I guess.”

Davey laughs again, softer this time. “Talk to you soon, Jackie.”

“Bye, Davey,” Jack replies.

After he hangs up he stares at his phone for a moment.

(There is absolutely 100% not any funny business to do with Davey’s laugh going on in the vicinity of his heart right now, because _we don’t fucking do that any more, heart, don’t you remember?_ And neither does Davey, so Jack really needs to get it to-fucking-gether.)

He takes a slow breath, _in, out._

Once he’s sure he’s gotten whatever that was out of his system, he dials Bryan Denton, because, like. He’s _got_ to know what to do with this little tiny tooth Jack’s still holding.

It’s a bone that fell out of his child’s face, it feels weird just to throw it out or something, but it feels just as weird to, like, keep it.

Bryan answers on the third ring.

“Bry! Hi! It’s Jack! What do I do with this tooth?”

\--

“What are you smiling about, Jack?”

“My friend just texted me something funny his kid said.”

“You have friends with kids? Unless you mean Race,” Katherine says. “But I feel like you’d just _say_ Race.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Yeah, funny how that works – once you have a kid, you meet other people who have kids.”

“Look at you, all grown up and having dad friends,” Katherine says. Her phone dings, and she picks it up. “Oh, I guess it’s just the day for kids saying funny stuff – my future niece apparently informed her father that her ‘shoes do not sufficiently have tops on them’ for the activity they’re doing. She’s five and wearing sandals.”

“Your future niece is Leah Jacobs?” Jack says, stunned. “Oh, shit, of course she is! Sarah has a twin brother!”

“Uh, yeah?” says Katherine.

“Kathy, Davey’s the friend who texted me,” says Jack. “I got the same Leah line you did.”

Katherine laughs. “How do you know David?”

“Leah’s in Sawyer’s dance class with Race,” Jack tells her, shaking his head. “And apparently he lives across the hall from Race and Spot?”

“Really?” says Katherine. “I’ve never been to Race and Spot’s, I didn’t even know.”

“Wild,” says Jack. He shakes his head again, chuckling. “Hey, speakin’a Sarah, how’s wedding planning going?”

“Stressful as fuck,” Katherine says with a dramatic slump of her shoulders. “My family have decided that they value being involved in my life again, just at exactly the right time to insist on all kinds of extravagant shit that Sar and I don’t really care about.”

Jack reaches over and pats her hand a few times. “Sorry, bud.”

“It’s nothing I didn’t expect, if I’m honest,” says Katherine. “Like, my dad has always managed to turn up and make my life as difficult as possible at the worst possible times.” She sighs. “I mean, given what he did to – to my last serious relationship, I’m almost surprised he didn’t try to jump in any sooner.”

“What?”

“My dad didn’t like my college boyfriend,” Katherine says with a tight smile. Something in her voice makes Jack feel like that’s maybe not the whole story, but he’s not going to push. She changes the subject. “Hey, Jack, will you be my best man?”

“Wait, really?” Jack replies, slightly stunned.

“Of course really,” says Katherine. “Why would I ask if I didn’t mean it? You were my first friend in this city, Jack, and by far my best one. Who else would I ask?”

“Oh, Kath,” says Jack. He gets up and walks around their little table, and when he’s next to her he tugs on her hand to get her to stand up. Once she’s standing, Jack pulls Katherine into a tight hug, both of his arms around her waist with hers wrapped around his neck and shoulders. “I’d love to be your best man. You’re one of my best friends on the planet, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Jack,” Katherine says. She rests her forehead on his shoulder.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be on your wedding day than by your side,” Jack says. He releases her, stepping back. “And anyway, I introduced you. If you’d asked anybody else I would’ve been offended.”

Katherine laughs. “Jack, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“It is in my house.”

\--

Jack and Sawyer have been invited over for a playdate at the Jacobs house. Jack is pretty sure this is a get together more for his benefit than for Sawyer’s, but hey, the kid ain’t exactly complaining.

Leah grabs Sawyer by the hand and drags them back to her bedroom to play before Sawyer and Jack are even fully into the apartment. Davey watches the two of them run off, shaking his head.

“Come on in,” he says. “I’m not gonna drag you like Bee did, though.”

Jack laughs. “Be kinda weird if you did.”

They end up sitting on the couch opposite each other, Davey cross-legged and Jack with one leg hanging over the side of the couch and the other pulled up to his chest so they can face each other. It’s a conversation that starts purely practical – balancing schedules, finding time for himself in between looking out for Soy, how to deal with other parents at school – but before long has spun into something completely different.

“So you’re an engineer, right?”

“Yeah, civil,” says Davey. “At Reid –“

“Wait, really? Reid?” Jack interrupts. “Do you know Charlie Morris? He’s one of my best friends in the universe.”

“Do I know Charlie Morris?” Davey repeats, laughing. “Jackie, he literally shares a cubicle wall with me. We talk all the time.”

“For sure?”

“For sure!”

“God, how the he _ck_ haven’t we met before?” says Jack. “My other best friend is Kath Plumber, you know. And I, uh, dated your sister in college.”

“You’re kidding me,” says Davey. He shakes his head, still laughing. “You’re _kidding_ me. You and Sarah?”

“I genuinely cannot tell if you’re surprised I’d like her or that she’d like me,” says Jack. He’s grinning, though, because it’s all goddamn hilarious and –

\- and it’s Davey, and even though Jack hasn’t known him long, he knows he’s not being made fun of even if Davey _does_ think Jack isn’t good enough for Sarah.

“Sarah almost never goes for guys,” Davey says.

Jack shrugs. “Got lucky. We were working the same show at my mom’s theatre.”

“What is it you do again?” says Davey, a faint crease forming between his eyebrows. “Because I could’ve sworn it was something with photography?”

“Photos for the World,” Jack says. “But I’m an artist at heart – I do set design, too. Mostly for my mom’s theatre, though.”

Davey hums, nodding. “I see.”

“I don’t have a lot of time for it nowadays,” Jack says. “Not just because of Sawyer, although they’re a factor. I’m busier than I was in college.”

“A man of many talents,” says Davey.

“Something like that,” says Jack. “If I’m honest, I only did scenic design and photography in college because I knew I’d hate myself if I studied traditional art, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I paint and draw,” Jack tells him. He digs his phone out of his pocket and opens up his photos, swiping until he finds a snapshot of his sketchbook he took to post online. It’s a sketch of Sawyer coloring, and he’s particularly happy with it. He passes the phone to Davey. “But I’m a lot happier doing that on my own terms, you know? So I studied something creative with a little bit better job prospects and I do the other art on my own time.”

“Jack, this is really good,” Davey says, a little stunned.

Jack shrugs. “S’just a sketch, don’t get too worked up.”

“I’m serious, Jackie. Take the compliment and don’t sell yourself short,” says Davey. “You could make a career of this, if you wanted to.”

“Not with Sawyer,” says Jack. “I do commissions and stuff from time to time, but it’s not consistent enough on its own. I like the World, though, I like photography.”

“Good.”

“Do you like engineering?”

“I have a slight obsession with bridges,” Davey says. “So, like, short answer yes.”

Jack laughs. “Bridges?”

“Bridges.” Davey passes Jack’s phone back to him, swatting at his leg as he does. “They’re cool!”

“Yeah, okay,” says Jack.

“C’mon, there’s gotta be some art thing you’re, like, embarrassingly into.”

“Lighting,” Jack admits with a small smile. “I go all gooey over, like, really dynamic or interesting lighting in a painting. It’s hard to light shit right and when it’s done well it’s just – it’s somethin’ else.”

“See!”

Jack laughs. “Yeah, I get’cha point.”

Talking to Davey comes easily to Jack – not that Jack usually struggles to talk to people, exactly, but Davey’s something else. He’s only known Davey a little shy of two weeks at this point, but something about him clicked with Jack’s personality in a way very few people have before.

By dinner time, Jack and Davey are arguing playfully about the Hunger Games movies and the value of page-to-screen adaptation. The afternoon has slipped away completely without their notice, and it’s really only Les coming home and asking Davey what the dinner plan is that makes them snap out of their conversation enough to realize how dark it’s gotten out the big living room windows.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Davey asks.

Jack shrugs. “If it’s not a bother. Soy and Lee seem like they’re still having fun back there, it’d give them a little more time.”

“We’d love to have you,” says Davey.

“You’re already here,” Les adds. There’s something odd in his voice and his expression that Jack can’t quite pin down, but he’s not trying to get Davey to kick Jack out so it can’t be bad, right?

“Okay,” says Jack. And they stay for dinner.

And after that Jack and Sawyer become a pretty regular fixture of the Jacobs household; Sawyer and Leah like playing together and Jack and Davey like hanging out, so it’s easy to spend evenings on the Jacobses’ couch, or leaning against the counters in the kitchen, or sitting on the floor in Leah’s room with the kids.

Friday evenings in the Jacobs house are movie nights – Davey describes the routine to Jack with a grin and then tells him to have Sawyer bring a favorite toy or two for the audience. Jack splutters, perplexed, until he realizes that this is an invitation.

(Sawyer picks their Jessie doll.)

Jack brings a sketchbook along, and perches across from Davey on the couch. He’s mostly angled toward the tv – the kids picked Finding Dory after extensive discussion – but he’s got the corner of his eye on Davey. He likes sketching his friends, and Davey has very quickly become a favorite subject. But the man is rarely so still, and it gives Jack the delightful opportunity to catch details he hasn’t noticed before.

(Davey isn’t a fidgeter like Race is, but he’s still somehow always in motion. It goes hand in hand with having a daughter as high energy as Leah is, Jack supposes, although that’s not the only reason.)

There’s one little swoop of curls that always seems to fall into Davey’s eyes, no matter how many times he brushes it away. There are faint freckles across his nose and cheeks, but they’re not prominent or numerous enough for Jack to think that he’s where Leah got hers.

There’s a sweet little half smile on his face as he’s watching Leah and Sawyer play that’s doing all kinds of things it shouldn’t be doing to Jack’s heart.

Jack realizes that Les is watching him as he stares at Davey and quickly refocuses back on the movie. It’s just about the best part, anyway.

Davey slides over closer to him on the couch, whispering, “This is my favorite part, you know.”

“Mine, too,” says Jack. “The musical callback to the first movie gets me every time.”

“I’m just a sucker for Marlin finally actually telling Dory how much she means to him,” Davey replies.

“It’s all the same,” says Jack. “The Nemo main theme is the family motif in the other movie, and using it in this scene really supports what Marlin is saying – she’s part of the family now, and they love and value her.”

“Oh, man, that _is_ nice,” Davey says. They both fall silent for a moment, absorbed in the scene. After Nemo and Marlin’s last exchange in the silence, when the scene changes, Davey slumps over against Jack like he’s had his strings cut. “God, _every time_. I know they all live together at the end! I do! But it just breaks my heart.”

“Mine, too,” Jack replies, shaking his head. “Also, oh my god, why did no one warn me how much harder the first movie was going to hit me after I had a kid, huh?”

“Single dad curse,” says Davey, still leaning heavily on Jack. “Sean and Tony get worked up over it too, but it’s not the same.”

Davey stays pressed against Jack until the movie ends. He sits up, glancing at Jack with slightly pink cheeks, like maybe he hadn’t _meant_ to stay there.

“Sorry, I –“

“No, no it was fine. It was, uh, nice.”

“Oh. I – yeah, it was.” Davey’s got that little smile back on his face, but he isn’t quite meeting Jack’s eye. And then, suddenly, he _is_ and Jack is hit with the full force of those gorgeous blue eyes at close range.

(Fuck.)

Jack smiles back, but turns his attention almost immediately to the kids, who are both piled on top of Les on the armchair.

“Hey, Soy, did you and Jessie like the movie?”

Sawyer nods sleepily.

Jack stands up and carefully extracts his child from the tangle of limbs on the chair. “Good. Okay, buddy, we’re gonna go home.”

“ _Noooo_ ,” Sawyer says quietly.

“You’re practically fallin’ asleep, kiddo,” Jack says, chuckling. “Say goodbye to Lee, Les, and David?”

Sawyer gives them a little wave.

“Bye-bye Soy,” Leah says, sounding just as sleepy as Sawyer.

“See you guys soon,” Jack says.

David hops up from the couch to open the door for Jack, which Jack appreciates because he has an armful of first grader.

“Bye, Jackie, bye Sawyer,” Davey says softly as they leave.

“G’bye, Davey,” Jack replies.

He’s glad Sawyer is mostly asleep, because it gives Jack plenty of time to ask himself what the _fuck_ he thinks he’s thinking getting all gooey over Davey Jacobs.

The fact is that in the six years since he gave up dating he hasn’t come this close to actually being interested in someone _once_ – and he can’t afford to be interested in Davey. Saving the fact that Jack himself doesn’t date and doesn’t want to, Davey admitted to Jack over lunch last week that he hasn’t been on a date since Leah’s mother broke his heart. That he’s fucking terrified that if he lets someone else in like that, they’ll crush him to tiny bits all over again.

Even a Davey who likes Jack wouldn’t be a Davey who dates Jack.

Not that it matters, because Davey _doesn’t_ see Jack that way and Jack. Doesn’t. See. Dave. That. Way. Either.

Before he knows it they’re home, and he can sink into the distraction of coaxing Sawyer out of the car and into the house, of the routine of bedtime and stories.

That doesn’t last long, though, and then Jack is lying awake in his bed staring up at the ceiling wondering where, exactly, he went wrong.

(He falls asleep and all he can think about is that smile and those eyes and god, Jack is completely screwed, isn’t he?)

\--

Over the past three months, Jack is pretty sure that Davey has become his best friend. Top three, at least – a list that used to read _Crutchie, Racer, Spot_ has shifted to read more like _Crutchie, Davey, Kathy._

(Although the funny thing is that Jack is getting close with Race and Spot again, too. He’s not sure how he missed it, but somewhere in college they’d grown up into very different people than they were when they were stupid high school kids, and only since adopting Sawyer has Jack started to get to know those new people. It’s nice, but it leaves him wondering how he’d missed this. Actual Grown Ups Race and Spot Higgins-Conlon are more Davey’s family than Jack’s in a lot of ways, now, and Jack is just starting to find his way back in.)

It’s only natural that Jack introduces Davey to the Idiot Squad, really. Davey knows most of them already – Race and Spot, obviously, his sister and Kath, even Crutchie – so it should be a natural fit.

It takes approximately ten years to convince Davey to come out to the bar, but finally, finally, Jack wins the argument and Davey agrees to come. It’s going to be a chill night out with their friends, nothing crazy. They’re all in their late twenties; it’s not exactly like any of them are big partiers anymore.

Jack is particularly excited for this night because Buttons is coming. He hasn’t been able to make it out with the gang in a while, because he lives in New York and that kind of puts a damper on his ability to make plans on a whim. But he’s in town for a few weeks for Christmas, and he’s meeting them out at the bar. Jack’s got a feeling Davey and Buttons will get along well – they’ve got pretty compatible personalities.

Davey and Jack arrive together, first. The rest of the group arrives in ones and twos – special mention to Crutchie showing up arm-in-arm with Albert, to Jack’s surprise and slight confusion since he didn’t know they were involved – and Buttons is late. He comes in a little while after everyone else, talking as he unwinds his scarf.

“I wish I had a better excuse than this, but I missed my stop on the L because I’m an idiot,” he’s saying.

Katherine and Davey’s heads both snap up at his voice. Davey actually stands.

Buttons, free of his scarf, looks around the table. Locks eyes with Davey.

“Benny?”

“David?”


	4. cards on the table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read this, take a deep breath.  
> In.  
> Out.
> 
> It's gonna be _fine._ Eventually.

“Benny.”

“David!”

Davey moves around the table and pulls Benny into a hug. It looks like the kind of hug you might give someone you thought you’d never see again – tight and clinging, both of them gripping the other like he might disappear if he lets go. Davey’s face is buried in Buttons’s shoulder, and Jack can hear them murmuring something to each other but it’s too quiet for him to make out the words.

It’s almost heartbreaking, the way they’re holding each other.

It’s also baffling, because Jack did not have even half a clue that these two knew each other before this exact second.

Another movement catches Jack’s eye – two seats over, Katherine has stood up. It’s a slightly stiff, jerky movement. She looks like she’s regretting it.

“Ben,” she says softly.

Davey and Buttons break apart. Buttons doesn’t actually fully let go of Davey, one of his hands still resting at the small of Davey’s back even as they turn to face Katherine.

“I’m sorry, what the fuck?” Buttons says. He looks from Katherine to Davey and back again. “Katie?”

“Katie,” Davey confirms, looking down at his feet.

Katherine winces. “It’s good to, uh, see you again.”

“Sorry, are you two talking again?” Buttons says.

“Ben, it’s not like that –“ says Davey.

“What is it like, exactly?”

“Nobody fucking knows!”

There’s an odd silence after that. Davey, Katherine, and Buttons all look over at the table, like they’ve suddenly remembered that they’re out in public and standing in front of, like, ten of their friends.

“What?” Buttons says, and there’s something slightly brittle in his voice. His hand falls away from Davey’s back. “They don’t know you’re – you’re fucking again, or –“

“Ben!” Katherine snaps. “None of our friends knew we even fucking _knew_ each other before Sarah introduced us.”

“She’s marrying my sister, Benny,” Davey says quietly.

“Oh! Well _congratulations_ , Kate,” says Buttons. “That’s worse. You know that’s _worse_ , right?” He chews on his lower lip for a moment. “You haven’t even told _her_ , have you?”

“No,” says Davey. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted the whole thing behind me.” He pauses, reaching for Buttons’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know,” Buttons replies. He lets Davey thread their fingers together for a moment, though, despite the bitterness in his words. “She still fucking – she’s marrying your sister.”

“Of course,” Katherine says in a low voice. “Of course you’re only mad at me, you were always half in love with him.”

“Half nothing, bitch. Not all loving relationships are romantic,” says Buttons. “God, Kate, you were our _friend_. I didn’t think you had it in you to be that cold. Neither did Bill or Darce, but they’d never say it to your face.”

The scene just keeps fucking building, and Jack and the others are all watching helplessly as _something_ plays out in front of them. Jack’s got a sinking feeling he knows what it is they’re talking around, but – but it can’t be. It can’t.

Kath wouldn’t –

_Kate._

_Again._

_Nobody knew we knew each other._

_That’s worse._

Jack can’t tear his eyes off of Davey, who’s white and shaky. He looks like the floor has dropped out from under him.

“I – I have to go,” Davey says, his voice breaking midsentence. He turns on his heel and walks out of the bar faster than Jack’s ever seen him move.

Buttons makes a move to follow, but swallows, shaking his head. He throws himself into an empty chair across from Race and forces a change of subject. Katherine just stays planted where she was, looking slightly stunned. Sarah gets up to talk quietly to her, one arm slipping around her waist.

Jack makes a split second decision and stands up, grabbing Davey’s coat off of the back of his chair and throwing his own on.

He finds Davey just outside, leaning against the wall with the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.

“Davey?” Jack says softly, trying not to startle him.

Davey is startled anyway, tensing at the sound of his name, although he relaxes again when he takes in that it’s Jack who’s come looking for him. “Hi, Jackie.”

He sounds tired.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks. “No, okay, that’s the wrong question. Can I help you feel okay at all? I brought you your coat.”

“I’m not cold,” says Davey.

“My seven-year-old is more convincing than you.”

“That’s not fair, Sawyer is a really good liar.”

“Davey, put the coat on.” Jack holds it out. He waits as Davey tugs the jacket on, then crosses his arms tightly over his chest. “Can I ask what just happened? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

“I have one goddamn secret, Jack,” Davey says, sounding a little bitter. “In my whole life, there’s just – there’s just one fucking thing. But I guess not even that anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jack,” says Davey. His eyes meet Jack’s and cut right through to his soul. “You’re too smart to play dumb like that. I know you figured it out.”

“I can forget if you want me to,” Jack offers.

Davey laughs, but it’s a forced, choked sound. “If I were going to tell anyone, I think it would’ve been you, Jackie.”

The weight of that is not lost on Jack.

He leans on the wall next to Davey, not quite touching him. “Who’s Buttons to you?”

“My best friend,” Davey says softly. “He was my best friend.” He shakes his head. “But I haven’t talked to him in a long, long time. Not since Kate – not since a few days after graduation.”

“And Kath?”

“Leah’s mom. We agreed not to acknowledge it when she started seeing Sarah.”

And, yeah, Jack had figured that out but fuck if it doesn’t feel like a punch to the gut to hear it said out loud.

“God, Davey,” says Jack. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Davey replies.

“It kind of is. I introduced them. I convinced Kath to ask Sarah out. Hell, I’m Katherine’s best man.”

Davey shakes his head, the movement a little uncontrolled. “You didn’t know who she was to me. And quite honestly, that’s how I wanted it. I didn’t – fuck, Jackie, I let her back into my fucking life and – and –“

His shoulders are shaking now, he’s breathing in gasping sobs. There aren’t tears on his face but it seems like a near thing. Jack opens his arms and Davey just about falls into them.

It’s December, and it’s like twenty-two degrees out, and Jack is holding his best friend together as he falls apart on the street outside of a bar where they were supposed to have a fun night.

(Fucking hell, no wonder Davey doesn’t date, if this is where his last relationship has left him.)

“I need to leave,” Davey says finally. “I can’t – I can’t look Ben in the eye now he knows –“

“Knows what?”

“That I was talking to Kate and not to him.”

“Buttons is a pretty forgiving guy, ‘specially when he loves you. And –“ A vague memory drifts into his mind – of coming home to his mother’s house and finding Buttons sitting at the kitchen table, talking to Medda about a friend he missed so much it almost physically hurt. He can’t help but wonder if that friend had been Davey. The timing would be right. He runs his hand over Davey’s hair. “I get the feeling Buttons loves you, Davey. You’re awful easy to love.”

“He used to,” Davey says, shaking his head. “I know he used to. But I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me now.”

“I would,” says Jack. “Listen to me, Jacobs. Katherine Plumber is one of my favorite people in the world, but even _I_ can see that a lot of this shit was pretty far out of your hands. If somebody who was _there_ , who had his own relationship with the two’a you right when the two’a you were fallin’ apart, can’t see that then he’s not the person I thought he was.” He strokes Davey’s hair again. “He didn’t hug you like somebody he hates.”

“I guess. He didn’t know yet then.”

“He knew he hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

“God, I’m such a shit friend. Jackie, why do you put up with me being such a shitty friend?”

“You’re not a shitty friend, Davey. You’re the best friend I’ve got.” Jack presses his forehead to Davey’s. “I don’t know the whole story, and I don’t need to – you’ve told me how bad Leah’s mom fucked you up. I don’t think anybody would blame you for pulling away.”

Davey shakes his head, the motion pulling Jack’s with it since they’re still pressed together. “I blame me.”

“Funny how shit like that works,” says Jack. “We always blame ourselves, even when nobody else does.”

“You say that like you know.”

“Not about this exactly. But yeah, I know.”

The door opens, and Sarah Jacobs walks outside. Jack and Davey take a half-step apart. She’s moving quickly, and Jack can see the tension in her shoulders despite her coat.

“David, I – I’ll call you in the morning,” Sarah says. She doesn’t stop walking.

Katherine bursts out the door a moment later. “Sarah, wait!”

Sarah does not wait.

Katherine pauses near Jack and Davey. “I hope you’re happy, Day. Your boyfriend comes back and fucks over my relationship –“

“I am absolutely fucking not happy,” says Davey, finally pulling away fully from Jack. “I was happy for the two of you, remember? I was happy pretending none of it ever fucking happened! I’m screwed by everybody knowing too, Kate. Sorry if things end up rough with Sarah over it, but it’s not like this isn’t all your fucking fault.”

“David –“

“Just go, Kate. Talk to Sarah, win her back over. I’m sure you will.” There’s just enough undisguised bitterness in his voice that Katherine hesitates for a moment before running in the direction Sarah had gone. Davey falls back into Jack as soon as she’s gone, the fight draining from him instantly.

“Davey,” Jack says softly. “Do you want to go home?”

“I want – I want this night to have gone differently,” says Davey.

“Not an option, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Davey sighs. “I want to talk to Ben, to apologise and – and everything. But I don’t think I can tonight.”

“Let’s go back to your place,” says Jack. “Come on.”

They leave. Jack texts Spot to let the others know they won’t be coming back.

_FROM: SPOTTY BOY_

_Yeah no kidding. Buttons is in pretty rough shape too. Tell Dave we love him, and we’re here if he needs us._

Jack tells him he will, then puts his phone away, sure he won’t use it again tonight.

Sawyer and Frankie are having a sleepover with Leah tonight, under Les’s supervision. The kids are already asleep when Jack and Davey arrive – Les had said they were planning to build a massive blanket fort to camp out in for the night in Leah’s room in his last update text – but Les is sitting up on the couch reading. He looks up when he hears them come in.

“Hey, you two are back early, I – shit, Dave, what happened?”

“Katherine Plumber is Leah’s mom,” Davey says, his eyes squeezed shut tight. “And everybody we know found out tonight.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Turns out my high school friend Buttons is their college friend,” Jack clarifies. “And he and Dave haven’t spoken since graduation, because of what happened. So there was a bit of a scene.”

Les’s jaw drops. “David, are you _okay_? Have you been okay one single time in the last four years?”

“Les, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, you look like shit.”

“Davey,” Jack says, cutting in quietly. “I’m gonna go, if you’re –“

“Stay?” Davey replies before Jack can even finish. His hand is tight around Jack’s wrist. “You don’t have to if it’s, like, crossing a line or something, but – but I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Please, Jackie.”

“Okay.”

Les is watching them silently, that same odd look on his face he gets sometimes when he looks at the two of them together. He nods, the motion very small. Jack’s sure Davey didn’t even see it.

And that’s how the night ends with Jack in borrowed pajamas, lying on the outside side of Davey’s bed.

There’s an odd feeling of déjà vu creeping in for Jack – a memory floating to the surface of a conversation with Kath in the midnight dark of a hotel room, the first time she’d ever alluded to the relationship that _must_ be Davey – as he stares up at the ceiling. Davey’s on the wall side, and he isn’t moving but Jack knows he isn’t asleep. He waits, awake, knowing something else is coming before sleep.

“Thank you,” Davey says eventually.

Jack rolls onto his side toward him. “It’s not any trouble. I was going to end up back here in the morning anyway. You’ve saved me a trip.”

Davey chuckles weakly. “Yeah, okay. I’m doing you a favor, having a breakdown and not wanting to sleep alone.”

“No shame in not wanting to be alone,” Jack says as gently as he can. “S’the hardest part of doing all this by yourself, isn’t it? You got nobody to hold you together when you start to fall apart.”

“It’s dumb,” Davey says. “It’s not like I’m alone – I’ve got my family. Les and the boys.”

“Ain’t the same. And you _know_ it ain’t.”

“No, it isn’t.” He sighs. “You didn’t have to do this, Jack.”

“I care about you a lot, Davey. The least I can do is be here for you.”

“The least you could do would’ve been bringing me home. This is well beyond the least.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Jackie, just let me thank you,” Davey says. He’s on his side now, too, and Jack is finding himself very aware of just how close he and Davey are to each other. Even in the weak moonlight creeping in the window, Jack can make out the details of Davey’s face.

(His heart does a little flip flop, which is highly inappropriate of it given the circumstances.)

“Okay,” Jack says, just a breath.

“Thank you, Jack.”

“You’re always welcome, Davey.”

Davey bites his lip for a moment, looking like he might say something else, before he flops back onto his back. “Good night, Jackie.”

“Good night, David.”

\--

Jack wakes up slightly disoriented. He’s in a bedroom that is not his, entwined with another sleeping body, for the first time in a very long time. It takes a moment for last night to flood back into his brain.

When it does, the arm that has worked its way around Davey’s back tightens instinctively, like that alone could protect him from the fallout of last night.

He’s sure he and Davey fell asleep next to each other but not quite touching, but somewhere in the night they wound themselves around each other. Jack is more or less on his back, with Davey on his side tucked against him. Davey’s head is resting on the dip between Jack’s chest and shoulder, one arm curled between their torsos and the other wrapped tightly around Jack’s chest. Their legs are tangled together, and Jack’s other arm is resting across Davey’s.

Jack doesn’t even have it in him to resist the fuzzy warmth flooding him.

(He resists, a little, when the vague thought _I could wake up like this for the rest of my life_ drifts in. It’s all well and good to feel warm and comfortable and deeply, deeply trusted, but letting his mind follow his heart down that rabbit hole is not happening. Now isn’t the time – there’ll never be a time. If Jack weren’t sure of that before, he’s damn sure now.)

Davey yawns, blinking slowly awake.

“Hey, you,” Jack says softly.

“Jack,” Davey says with a sleepy smile.

(shit.)

“You sleep okay?” asks Jack. “I’ve got a feeling today’s gonna be rough.”

Davey nods. He pulls away from Jack. It’s a slow, reluctant movement, like Davey wants to stay curled up in this moment just as much as Jack does.

“Thank you for staying.”

“I’m sorry you needed it.”

Davey sighs. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Both of their phones, sitting on the bedside table, go off a few times in quick succession.

_DAD SQUAD (2.0)_

_Racetrack: feels like a spend the day in a big ol building without cell reception kinda day_

_Racetrack: hcjk family field trip?_

_Spotty boy: I texted les he’s already hyping the kids up for dinosaurs_

_Spotty boy: Daves we’re gonna be over in a sec_

_Racetrack: Jack get your BUTT to david’s place_

_Me: lol ok_

“I guess we’re going to the museum,” Jack reports. He can hear Les in Leah’s room waking the kids.

Davey smiles. “That’ll be nice. Lee and Cesco love the Field. I bet Sawyer will, too.”

“We should get up before my brother comes over,” Jack says. Davey nods.

“Do you want to borrow a t-shirt or something? So you don’t just have to wear the same clothes as yesterday?” says Davey. “I’d offer you jeans, too, but –“

“Yeah, I don’t think those’d fit,” says Jack. “I’m good to wear mine again, but a shirt would be nice.”

“I’m on it.”

Davey gets up and crosses to his dresser, tossing a shirt at Jack. When he unfolds it he realizes it has a cartoon of a t-rex holding one of those grabber arm things, captioned _I AM UNSTOPPABLE_ on the front. He snorts.

“We like to dress on theme for the museum,” Davey says. He holds up the shirt he’s planning to wear – it has a dinosaur reading a book with glasses on, labeled _Thesaurus._

“I see,” says Jack, laughing.

“Leah and Frankie have these eye-searing lime green dinosaur bone shorts they wear when it’s warm enough,” Davey tells him. “We’ll have to go when the weather warms up so you can see them.”

“I’d love that.”

They’re making breakfast a few minutes later when Spot and Race let themselves in.

“Oh!” says Race, startled, “Jack! You’re here quick.”

Jack glances at Davey briefly before nodding. “Yeah.”

“You’re wearing David’s shirt,” Spot notices.

“Yeah.”

Spot and Race look at each other, having one of their legendary eyebrow conversations.

Race turns back towards Jack and Davey. “Yeah, okay.”

Davey’s posture – which Jack now realizes had been _incredibly_ tense – relaxes. They’re not going to ask.

The four of them and their three children and Les are just going to have a nice, normal day at the museum.

Everything.

Is.

Fine.


	5. I think you're dino-mite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, I knew that last chapter was going to get a reaction, but I didn't realise it was going to be THAT dramatic.  
> have a breather chapter, guys, you deserve it.

Before they leave for the museum, Sawyer is presented with a gift. It’s wrapped in dinosaur-patterned paper.

“There’s a dress code for Field Museum trips, kiddo,” Les says mock seriously. “Go ahead and open it up.”

Sawyer carefully peels up the tape – “Just rip it, Soybean, it’s okay!” from Race going completely ignored – and unfolds the paper. Inside is a t-shirt, carefully folded to show the graphic of a stegosaurus printed on the front.

“Dino shirt!” Frankie says. “Go put it on, So-so!”

Sawyer looks up at Jack, with that sweet close-mouthed but deeply dimpled smile that makes his heart melt.

“How ‘bout you to Leah’s room and change,” Jack says, smiling back.

He gets a quick flash of teeth and then Sawyer scurries off down the hall. They’re back in a flash, stegosaurus shirt on.

“Lookin’ good, bud!” Davey says.

“Thank you, Les,” Sawyer says politely. God, Jack loves his kid.

Les ruffles their hair. “You’re welcome, Tofu. Now let’s get going! Those dinosaurs won’t see themselves.”

“That’s silly, Uncle Les,” Leah says, shaking her head. “The dinos don’t have eyes anymore.”

“What I’m hearing is ‘you’re right, Uncle Les.’”

It takes Spot all the way to the car to stop laughing.

The eight of them pile into the Higgins-Conlons’ minivan, which is a tight squeeze particularly with the booster seats for the kids, but doable. Spot, Race, and Les are volunteered to wedge themselves into the back with the kids since Spot is the smallest of all of them, Race is skinny as hell, and Les is “only an adult by technicality.” That leaves Jack in the passenger’s seat next to Davey, who is driving because Jack’s never actually driven to the Field before and he doesn’t know how to get into the museum campus by car.

The soundtrack to the car ride is the kids explaining to Jack why the velociraptor on Frankie’s shirt isn’t accurate –

“It needs feathers, Jack.”

“Feathers?”

“Yeah, Dad. They’re birds.”

“I thought they were dinosaurs.”

“Yes.”

\- and that takes them all the way up the stairs and into the museum.

The kids lead the way up to the evolution exhibit, which is where the dinosaurs live. Jack is swept up in the flurry of energy that is Leah and Frankie, who are each holding one of his hands and dragging him along while Sawyer follows a few steps behind with Les.

Davey is hovering close to Race and Spot, talking in low voices. There’s something pained in his face – though it softens a little bit when he meets Jack’s eye – that gives Jack a pretty good indication of what they’re talking about.

He resolves to keep all three kids entertained for as long as Davey needs. The set of Les’s shoulders tells him Les has come to the same thought.

Something is lighter in Davey’s posture when he and the others finally drift back into the group fully. He slips into the space next to Jack, not quite touching him, but not out of reach.

“You feelin’ alright?” Jack asks softly.

Davey nods. “Better.” He runs a hand through his hair before burying his hands in his pockets. “I need to call Ben later, but I – god, I don’t even know what to say.”

“I usually lead with ‘I’m sorry’ and go from there,” says Jack. He bumps his shoulder against Davey’s. “But I betcha lunch on Tuesday that if you do, Buttons either tells you you shouldn’t apologise or apologises right back. Maybe both.”

“I’ll take that bet, ‘cause that’s not gonna happen.” Davey bumps Jack back. “Thank you, though. I appreciate your confidence.”

“And hey, even if he doesn’t forgive you – which, like, I’d be shocked – you’ve got Spot and Racer and Les and me here for you,” Jack says.

“Katherine is your best friend,” Davey says. “I don’t want to put you in the middle of this. It’s already messed up enough as it is.”

“You’re my best friend,” Jack says. “And I love Kath, but I’ve never – I’ve never seen her so vicious. I can’t pretend to have understood, like, half of what she was saying but I could see that it cut you and Buttons deep.”

“The unfortunate thing about letting someone in enough to love you is that they tend to learn all your soft squishy vulnerable parts,” says Davey. He sighs, running his hand through his hair again. “So Kath knows exactly how to hurt us. Ben and I could probably do it to her, too, if we wanted.”

Jack whistles. “I’ve never really thought about it that way.”

“I didn’t before,” Davey admits. “Although, I mean. I think she did it to herself, too – if any one of us was insecure about how close I was to Benny, it was probably her.” He sighs. “Sometimes I wonder if even then she knew he loved me more than she did.”

Jack doesn’t have a good response to that, and before he can form one, Davey shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be unloading all of this onto you.”

“Davey, man, you’ve been holding this in for _years_ ,” Jack says. He wraps an arm around Davey’s shoulders, pulling him tight to his side. Davey practically melts into his touch. “You say anything you need to, I’ll listen.”

Davey hums. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you wandering into my life, Jackie, but I’m grateful.”

Jack squeezes Davey’s shoulders again. “I don’t know, Davey, I think I came out on top here. Who else would I call at one am to ask parenting questions he doesn’t know the answer to?”

Davey laughs, and it’s a real, actual laugh that brightens his whole face and sends a warm buzz of satisfaction through Jack.

Leah runs over to them. “Hey, Daddy? Can you pick me up so I can look at the skeletons in the back of the big case?”

“Of course, baby,” says Davey. He slips out of Jack’s arms and lifts his daughter up, walking back over to the cases. Jack watches them for a moment, before shifting his gaze to watch Sawyer and Frankie working through reading a sign with Les’s help.

“It’s good to see him laughing,” Spot says. Jack jumps, startled. He hadn’t noticed his brother walking over.

“Yeah, he was in some rough shape last night,” Jack agrees. His gaze shifts back to Davey and Leah.

“You stayed over?”

“Yeah.”

Spot’s eyebrows crease together. “Jack –“

“It wasn’t anything, okay? I brought him home and he didn’t want to be alone,” Jack says in a low voice. “So I stayed. Of course I stayed. It’s _Davey_.”

“Yeah, Jack. It’s Davey.” Spot’s got a funny look on his face, one Jack finds he can’t quite read. “So be careful, would you?”

“There’s nothing to be careful with,” says Jack. “He’s my friend, and I’m gonna take care of him where I can. There’s nothing else going on. I don’t do that anymore and – and even if I did, I couldn’t ask it of him.”

Jack gets the feeling that Spot can see through him, through his firm assertions that there aren’t any more complicated feelings than friendship going on. But the fact is that Jack won’t – _can’t_ – act on them even if he were still that guy. He’s had too many relationships fall to pieces on him to take that kind of risk with Davey’s taped-together heart.

“If you say so,” says Spot.

“Well, I do,” says Jack. He walks away, over to his child. “What’cha readin’, Sawyer?”

Sawyer points at the sign they’ve been working on. “Tully Monster. Did you know that it’s our state fossil, Dad?”

“I didn’t, that’s really cool,” Jack replies. “Have you learned any other facts about them?”

\--

As soon as they get outside at the end of the day, Davey’s phone starts going off like crazy. Texts and missed calls are flooding in.

His grace period of a day out with his family in a place where no one could reach him is over.

“I have about eight hundred texts and calls from Sarah,” he murmurs to Jack. “I’m gonna call her back, can you drive?”

“Yeah, Davey, anything you need,” says Jack, frowning. “You sure you wanna do that with the kids in the car?”

“It won’t be a long conversation,” Davey says. That weight from last night has settled back over him. They get the kids settled in their boosters and Race, Spot, and Les wedge themselves into the open back seats.

“Okay, kids, Davey’s gotta make a phone call,” Jack says over his shoulder. “You can talk, just keep it down, okay?”

“Yes, Dad,” Sawyer says at the same time that Frankie and Leah chorus, “Yes, Jack.”

Davey gives Jack a small smile, then dials his sister. “Hey, Sarah. No – we were at the museum. We’re on our way home now. Kids, say hi to Aunt Sarah.” He holds the phone toward the back seats so Sarah can hear the kids’ greetings. Then he brings it back to his ear. “No, this isn’t a bad time.”

Jack tries to tune the conversation out as much as possible, focusing on the road and the quiet debate between Leah and Frankie about whether the ancient Egypt exhibit is cool or too creepy. Sawyer, bless them, pipes in with the argument that there shouldn’t be mummies in the museum whether or not the room is creepy because it’s not polite to go digging up people’s graves and putting them in museums even for educational purposes.

(That’s the phrasing they use, “not polite.” It makes Jack smile.)

“N’anyway, they could have a display with a pretend mummy or somethin’ to teach about how it works without havin’ real ones. Then they could turn the lights on and it wouldn’t be dark and spooky.”

“That’s a good point, Tofu,” Les says.

“I know,” says Sawyer.

Jack laughs, caught a little off guard. Sawyer’s been opening up more and more the more comfortable they’ve gotten with Jack and the family, but moments of slightly snarky confidence like this are still few and far between. Though Jack suspects they’re it up from Leah, who is a little sass monster behind her cute freckly exterior.

He snaps back into awareness of Davey’s conversation a moment later when he hears Davey say, “Yeah, well, maybe I wanted it that way,” in such a clipped, fragile way that Jack actually glances over at him to make sure he’s okay.

Davey waves him off.

Jack turns his focus fully forward, but he’s still a little more tuned into Davey than he had been before.

“No, Sarah, I – it was a complicated and painful situation, and I didn’t want to make it any more complicated or painful by bringing you into it,” Davey says quietly. “I wish I were sorry, but it was between me and her.”

Whatever Sarah says to that makes Davey pull a sour face.

“Quite honestly, no. I can’t speak for her though.” Davey runs his fingers through his hair, leaving his hand hanging from the back of his neck when he’s done. “Sar, I understand why you’re upset, but I – if you’re not – no. No, I don’t. I really am happy for you two, okay? And I don’t really have the energy to argue about it. So – yeah. Please.” He sighs. “I know. I love you, too. Talk to you soon.”

He slips his phone back into his pocket, letting his head fall back against the headrest with a sigh.

“Dad?” Leah asks tentatively. “Are you and Aunt Sarah fighting?”

“No, baby,” says Davey, twisting in his seat to look at her. “She’s just been having a bad day and she wanted to talk to me about it.”

“Okay,” says Leah. She doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but she doesn’t press further.

Arriving home at the Higgins-Conlon-Jacobses’ building is as much a production as leaving it, with eight people climbing out of the car and then hugs goodbye all around since Jack and Sawyer have to actually go home now, having spent upwards of twenty-four hours together with the others.

Jack hugs Davey goodbye – he doesn’t always, but he knows Davey needs it tonight. When he pulls away he pats Davey’s cheek with one hand.

“Let me know how things go with Buttons, okay?”

Davey nods. “I will. Thank you, again, for staying last night.”

“Of course,” says Jack. “You’re my friend and I love you, I’m going to take care of you if I can.”

“Still, Jackie,” Davey says.

Jack nods. “You know you’re welcome, Davey.”

He and Sawyer leave. It’s not until they’re home and settled into an evening of painting together – Sawyer with kid watercolors and Jack with acrylics – that it occurs to Jack to look at his phone for the first time all day.

_FROM: KATYDID_

_Please tell me you don’t hate me, too._

It takes Jack a while to figure out how to respond. He’s halfway through his cityscape before he can settle on anything.

_TO: KATYDID_

_I could never hate you, Kathy, but we didn’t exactly see the best of you last night._

Katherine responds almost immediately.

_Katydid: god, I know. I’m so embarrassed._

_Katydid: I spent like an hour on the phone with Benny earlier apologizing_

_Katydid: Sarah’s furious but I think mostly bc we lied to her_

_Katydid: David hasn’t answered me all day, I feel awful_

_Me: Davey spent the day at the Field. No service._

_Katydid: oh_

_Me: he’s okay but I don’t think he’s happy with you_

_Katydid: he probably shouldn’t be_

_Me: what happened last night kath? I’ve never seen you like that._

_Katydid: I don’t even know. Ben showing up scared the fuck out of me, and I did and said a lot of things I really wish I hadn’t._

_Katydid: I hope you don’t think worse of me for knowing what happened back then, Jack._

_Me: I’ve known for a long time you regret what happened with your last relationship. That was Dave, wasn’t it?_

_Katydid: it was._

_Me: then I don’t. I know both of you were hurt by what happened, and I know it wasn’t really your choice._

_Katydid: thank you. I really, really needed to hear that._

_Me: I’ve gotta go do dad stuff. Take care of yourself, Kath._

_Katydid: thanks, Jack._

Jack sets his phone aside, refocusing on the activity he’s doing with his kid and enjoying the evening. He’s got some strongly mixed feelings about Kath right now – he really does love her, she’s been one of his best friends for so long now, but _god_ if watching her last night didn’t put a bad taste in his mouth.

“Hey, Dad?” Sawyer says, their soft voice breaking into Jack’s thoughts.

“What’s up, So-so?” Jack replies.

“Is Davey okay? He seemed sad today.”

Jack puts an arm around Sawyer, pulling them into a brief half-hug. Of course Sawyer – by far the most observant and emotionally aware of the three children most in Jack’s life – would notice something was wrong.

“He’s okay,” Jack lies. “He saw an old friend for the first time in a long time last night and that can be overwhelming.”

Sawyer hums. “If you say so, Dad. At least you made him smile a few times.”

“I was trying to,” says Jack.

“Good.”

Jack gets one more text before he goes to sleep that night, and it comes in well after he’s sent Sawyer off to bed. A wave of relief from a tension he didn’t even realize he was feeling washes over him when he reads it.

_FROM: DAVEY_

_Looks like I owe you lunch._


	6. Dad Lunch Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chicagos aggressively at you)
> 
> Here, have some emotions.

Tuesday can’t come fast enough for Jack’s taste.

Monday is awkward as all fuck, because Katherine is fighting for absolute normalcy but she looks like a complete wreck and both Finch and Jack are walking on eggshells all day after what they saw over the weekend.

Tuesday morning is just as bad, but Jack has lunch with Davey to look forward to. He’d told Davey he wasn’t going to hold him to their playful bet, but Davey insisted on taking Jack out to lunch anyway. It's not like they don't have lunch together every once in a while anyway, Jack supposes.

They meet midway between the World’s South Loop office and Reid’s actual Loop office, nowhere fancy just a favorite of Davey’s.

“So, how’s Buttons?” Jack asks.

“He’s good. He’s – _upset_ with me, but – well, he’s about a thousand times less upset with me than he is with Katie, so I’ll take it,” says Davey. He runs his fingers through his hair, twisting a curl behind his ear around his fingers a few times before he lets his hand drop. “It was exactly like you said; I apologized and he told me not to, then apologized like six times for, quote, ‘flipping his shit’ at Katie in front of everyone.”

“I get the feeling that one was more about _in front of everyone_ than for the yelling,” says Jack.

“Oh, I’m sure it was,” Davey replies with a weak smile. “That’s a fight that’s been six years coming.” He bites his lip for a moment. “Is Kate doing okay?”

“It’s hard to say,” Jack tells him, shrugging. “She seems really shook up but she’s not saying anything about it.”

Davey hums sadly. “Yeah, that sounds like her. Keep an eye on her for me?”

“Davey –“

“Look, I know,” says Davey. “I know. Whatever you’re going to say, I’m sure it’s a thought I’ve had myself. But despite my very best efforts, I do still care about her.” He sets his mouth in a straight line, corners just barely turned down, and his eyebrows push together a little. It feels like a challenge. Or, rather, like he’s daring Jack to challenge him.

“Hey, no judgment,” says Jack. “I know you can’t control that kinda shit. Just be careful, okay? I don’t wanna see you getting hurt because you’re more worried about other people than yourself.”

Davey lets out a shaky laugh at that. “It’s too late for that one, Jackie.”

The tone of Davey’s voice and the look in his eyes are doing something terrible to Jack’s heart. It’s not the usual flutter or flip-flop that Jack is becoming distressingly used to when Davey’s around; this time it’s more a dull ache. He can see Davey is hurting despite Davey’s insistences, and moreover he knows that this is a hurt that can’t just be joked or waved away.

There is something deep down in Davey that Katherine Plumber broke, and nobody ever put the jagged, shattered pieces back together. And now they’ve all been shaken up again, digging deep into the _squishy vulnerable parts_ of Davey’s heart and soul.

“Davey,” Jack says softly, “are you okay?”

“No, Jack, I’m not,” says Davey with a wry smile. “Thanks for asking.”

“Does talking about it help at all? Or would you rather hear about how Soy hasn’t stopped talking about the museum trip since we got home?”

“Sawyer?” Davey says, so tentatively that it almost physically hurts Jack to hear.

“Oh my god,” Jack says, “it’s been the cutest thing. I mean, you know Soze doesn’t exactly talk a ton, yeah?”

Davey nods.

“Well for like three days straight I’ve had a running commentary about all the exhibits we saw and how cool the dinosaurs are and, like, the history of SUE,” says Jack. “I don’t know what it is about Lee and Frankie but they really bring out Sawyer’s chatty side.”

“That’s sweet,” Davey says.

“It really is,” says Jack. “I swear, they’ve got friends at school, but getting stories about them is like pulling teeth. But your daughter? Soze will talk about what they get up to with Leah all day long.”

“I’m glad they’re connecting,” says Davey. He taps his fingertips against the tabletop. “I – you’re one of my best friends, Jack, and I feel incredibly lucky knowing our kids get along, too.”

“You’re one of my best friends, too, Davey,” Jack replies.

Davey smiles, and this time it’s for real. “How’s Sawyer doing in school? First grade treating them well?”

Davey knows the answer to this, because Davey sees Jack no less than twice a week, but Jack will never _not_ jump at the opportunity to gush about how goddamn smart his kid is, so he launches into a report about the email he got from Sawyer’s teacher the other day about Sawyer’s improving reading skills. It’s a win-win; Jack is happy to ramble about his child, and Davey clearly needs the distraction.

Talking about Sawyer leads to talking about Leah, who has taken recently to moving Les’s things around the living room and then playing innocent when he goes looking for them.

“I want to tell her off, because, like, she needs to respect other people’s space and belongings even if that space is also a shared space,” Davey says, “but it’s also so goddamn funny.”

“That’s your dad side conflicting with your brother side right there,” says Jack.

“I know!”

“I dunno if I’d be able to make myself tell Sawyer not to do that to Spot,” Jack admits, grinning. “Probably would Smalls, though, she doesn’t deserve that kind of torture.”

“What, and Sean does?” Davey asks.

“Pssh, _Sean_.” Jack snorts. “Yeah, Spot does. All the shit he put me through in high school? I love ‘im, but a little kid nonsense is well within what he deserves.”

“I don’t know a ton about your teen years,” says Davey. “Sean gave you a hard time?”

“Big brother, hazard of the job,” Jack says, shrugging. “He named the exes club though.”

“The what?”

“Oh, right, I – hell, have I really never told you?”

“Told me what?”

“So, like, I used to date a metric fuckton,” Jack says. “Like, eighth grade to senior year of college I think I had something like eighteen or nineteen significant others. A _huge_ chunk of my friend group are my exes.”

“Wait, really?” says Davey.

“Not Spot, obviously, but a lot of the others. Your sister. Crutchie. Race. Even Buttons, actually,” says Jack. His cheeks are a little pink, but there’s enough time and space between him and his History that he’s less embarrassed than he used to be.

(And, separately, Jack has never once felt that sticky, heavy feeling that settles over him from time to time when he’s been around Davey. Davey makes Jack feel at ease in a way very few people do.)

“I’ve never known Ben to date,” says Davey.

“Neither’ve I, really,” Jack replies, shrugging. “He saw a couple people on and off in high school, but as far as I know he hasn’t dated since he split up with me summer after Junior year.”

Davey hums. “So _Exes Club_?”

“Spot’s idea of a joke after the fourth or fifth,” says Jack. “It was the name of our group chat for, uh, six years maybe?”

“They drop it when you stopped dating so much?”

Jack scrunches his nose. “Not exactly. Thing is, I always kinda hated it. I was really, really self conscious about not being able to get anything to work. Felt like it must be that I wasn’t, like, good enough as a person to deserve love.”

“Oh, Jackie.”

“It was easier to be in on the joke, though, y’know?” Jack says, not meeting Davey’s eye. “I never told anybody how much it stung. And then all at once I decided I wasn’t gonna take it anymore – the teasing or how fucking shit I always felt when I dated. Gave it up for good and changed the name of the group chat and I never looked back.”

When Davey doesn’t respond right away, Jack glances up.

There’s a look in Davey’s eye that Jack can’t place. It isn’t pity, like Jack worried it might be. It’s just a little bit sad, just a little bit fond.

“What?”

“That’s incredible, Jackie.” There’s so much sincerity in his voice that it almost hurts. “I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to make that move for yourself. Are you happier now?”

“So much happier,” Jack answers honestly. “Even before Sawyer walked into my life. But, like, a thousand times more with the kid, even on bad days.”

“That’s good,” says Davey. “You deserve to be happy, Jack.”

“So do you, Davey.”

\--

It’s early Saturday morning, and Jack’s phone just went off a few times in quick succession. He doesn’t check it right away, he’s trying to get the sunlight just right in the painting he’s working on.

_FROM: DAVEY_

_I don’t suppose you and Sawyer are free today_

_There’s something I really want to talk to you about_

_Les said he’d watch the kids_

A chill runs through Jack at the sight of those words.

_TO: DAVEY_

_Yeah of course_

_Dave are you okay_

Davey responds almost immediately.

_FROM: DAVEY_

_no._

Which is all Jack needs to hear, really. He gets Sawyer dressed and out the door in record time, and when they arrive at the Jacobses’ place, Les is waiting for them just inside the door.

“Hey, Tofu!” Les says, his bright smile not reaching his eyes at all. “Bee and Cesco are playing trucks in Leah’s room, if you wanna go join ‘em.”

Sawyer lights up and gives Jack a quick hug before darting down the hall.

“David is next door,” Les tells Jack quietly. “He’s – fuck, Jack, he’s not in good shape.” Les runs his hands through his hair – it’s a very _Davey_ gesture, Jack can’t help but notice. He wonders if Les picked it up from Davey or if they picked it up from the same someone else. “Is it cool if I take the kids out to a park or something? I was thinking we could get ice cream, too. Keep’em distracted.”

“Yeah, whatever you want to do,” says Jack. “I can pay you back if you get ice cream.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Les. “Just take care of my brother, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

Jack crosses the hall and taps gently on Spot and Race’s door. There’s a rustle and the sound of quiet footsteps before it opens, revealing Spot in a school t-shirt and pajama pants.

“Oh, good,” Spot says, and Jack is a little surprised to realize how sincere his tone is. “He’ll be glad you’re here.”

Spot lets Jack in, then takes a seat in one of the armchairs. Race and Davey are on the couch, and like Spot they seem to both be in their pajamas – Race’s an outrageous set of plaid pants and an oversized t-shirt with Mickey Mouse on it, Davey’s a pair of sweatpants and a shirt with the faded logo of Jack’s high school. Race is even wearing his glasses. Davey seems to have been curled up in Race’s arms, although he’s sat up and leaned forward to watch as Jack comes into the room.

“Shit, Davey,” says Jack. He just about falls into the open space on Davey’s other side. “What happened?”

Davey settles back against Race, but one of his hands finds Jack’s. “They’re staying together. Sarah and Kate. I always – this is what I _wanted_ for them, but it hurts – fuck, Jackie, why does it hurt so much?”

“Oh, Davey,” Jack says softly. “Oh, love, I know.”

There’s not really much else to say but that, really. Of course it hurts – as much as Davey has insisted repeatedly since everyone found out that not telling anyone was his idea, that Kath and Sarah are perfect for each other and he doesn’t want them breaking up over him, over something that’s long since _over_ , at the end of the day this is him watching his sister choose her lover over her brother.

This is him watching his ex try a hundred times harder in her new relationship than she ever had with him.

Fuck, that hurts just to _watch._ Jack can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for Davey to be living it.

It turns out that this is much less _I really want to talk to you about this_ than _I really don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now._ Davey shifts at one point so he’s leaning a little more on Jack, their sides fully pressed together from hip to shoulder, still holding hands. Race is draped across Davey’s other side, head on his shoulder, mumbling soft reassurances that Davey isn’t alone, that they love him.

Spot doesn’t move from the chair, but he’s leaning in close with one knee hugged tight to his chest. He’s watching closely, his eyes fixed on Davey’s face.

Jack has been there an hour or so, maybe longer, when the doorbell rings. Spot gets it, Race and Jack unwilling to disentangle from Davey.

Buttons Davenport is at the door, and then he’s in the apartment. He’s brought a to-go cup from a coffee shop that Jack vaguely remembers as being near Buttons’s mom’s house in Evanston, as well as something else in a small reusable shopping bag. He sets both of those aside to kneel in front of Davey on the floor.

“Hey,” he says, more softly than Jack has ever heard Buttons speak in his life, “I brought you tea.”

“Of course you did,” Davey says, a teary smile creeping onto his face.

Buttons reaches up to brush a tear away from Davey’s face. “Yeah, of course I did.” He smiles. “I brought that awful nineties movie musical we used to love, too.”

Davey wrinkles his nose. “I don’t – I don’t know if I can handle that right now.”

“That’s okay,” says Buttons, still unbelievably gentle. “That’s okay. You’re upset with Katie, of course you don’t want to –“ He glances over his shoulder at Spot. “Do you guys have, like, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade or something? This feels like a good time to watch something fun and just wrap him up in love from those of us who _don’t_ take him for granted. Not that you guys weren’t doing a good job of that already.”

“We do,” says Race.

“ _Do we have Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ , he asks,” says Spot, playing offended. “What do you take us for, Buttons? Of course we do.”

“Is that what you wanna do, Davey?” Jack asks.

All eyes turn to Davey.

He nods.

Spot gets the movie set up, and Buttons presses the cup he brought into Davey’s hand.

Davey takes one sip before almost bursting right back into tears – Jack has a front row seat to Davey’s eyes right now, and he can see them welling up. “You remembered.”

“Oh, David, you’ve got no idea,” says Buttons.

He settles back against Davey’s legs, so now Davey is surrounded on all sides by people who love him. Spot stays on the chair, still turning every once in a while to study Davey in that same intense way he has been since Jack arrived.

They aren’t quite watching the movie, although they aren’t _not_ – they’re all reacting in all the right places, occasionally making commentary, but this is much more an exercise in cuddling on the couch than film absorption.

“Jack?” Davey says softly, toward the end of the movie.

“What’s up, Davey?” Jack replies just as softly.

“I got what I wanted,” says Davey. “This is what I wanted for them. Why –“ He closes his eyes, scrunching his face up, “ _why_ does it still feel like this?”

“Because it’s not what you want,” says Jack. He squeezes Davey’s hand. “It’s just what you think you deserve.”

Davey makes a small, pained sound and rests his head back on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack meet’s Race’s eye across him. There’s a deep crease between Race’s eyebrows, and he looks like he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.

Before any of them can say anything else, Jack’s, Spot’s, Race’s, and Davey’s phones all go off.

“It’s Les,” Spot says. “They’re back from the park, kids are beggin’ for a sleepover. I’m down; Jack?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Jack replies. “S’that alright with you, Davey?”

Davey nods.

Incredibly reluctantly, Jack works himself out of Davey’s arms and stands. Buttons slips onto the couch in his place.

“I’m gonna run home and grab some PJs and stuff for Soy, then,” says Jack. “You guys wanna do something together for dinner when I get back?”

“Might as well,” says Spot.

“If you wanna order carryout, I can pick it up on my way back,” Jack says, now speaking directly to Spot. The others are all a little too deeply entangled in the moment to for practicality.

“I’ll let you know where we pick,” Spot replies.

Jack nods and makes for the door.

“Jack?” It’s Davey.

Jack pauses, hand on the doorknob, and turns to make eye contact with Davey again. “Yeah?”

“You, too?” It takes Jack a second to figure out what he means, and he can tell that the others don’t understand him. But the kids are having a sleepover, and Davey feels broken and vulnerable and _you, too_ can really only mean one thing.

“Yeah, Davey. If you want.”

“Please?”

“Yeah.”


	7. (i'm) something you might regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a long chapter, but it's also the second chapter I'm posting today, so... Enjoy ;)

Dinner feels almost painfully normal. Chaotic as all hell, but normal. The kids chatter about their super fun day with Uncle Les and how they drew and played trucks and then they went to the park and played superheroes and pirates and pirate superheroes and then they went for ice cream and _what did you do today, Dad?_

“My friend Benny visited,” Davey says, a little distantly. “He held you the day you were born, Bee, but it’s been a long time since I saw him last.”

“Oh!” says Leah. “That’s nice. Was it good to see him again?”

“It was really good to see him again,” Davey tells her. Jack gets the feeling that it’s even the truth, sort of.

The eight of them work on a big puzzle on the Higgins-Conlons’ dining room table for a while after dinner, and before they all know it it’s time for bed for the kiddos.

Jack volunteers to manage bedtime, knowing that Les hasn’t really had a chance to talk to Davey since Sarah texted him this morning, and he herds the kids out of Spot and Race’s place and across the hall before anybody else can offer to help. In the corner of his eye he sees Les pull Davey into a tight hug as they leave.

By the time Les and Davey find their way over, Jack is ten minutes deep in a debate over whether pajamas or tooth brushing should come first with his nephew, and Leah and Sawyer have already changed.

“Cesco,” Davey says, dad voice firmly in place, “it literally does not matter whether you brush your teeth or put your pajamas on first, but whatever it’s gonna be you need to do it _now_.”

Frankie groans. “ _Fine_.”

“Francesco Nolan Higgins-Conlon,” Davey says. He doesn’t elaborate – full naming in that tone is enough.

“Sorry, Uncle Jack,” Frankie says. “I’m gonna go put on my jammas.”

“Good,” Jack says. Frankie runs off. “God, Davey, how do you do that?”

“Practice, Jackie,” says Davey. He pats Jack’s shoulder. “Practice.”

It’s a quiet evening between sending the kids to bed and Les declaring himself “absolutely fucking exhausted” and thus kickstarting the adults go to bed segment of the evening.

Jack sleeps on the outside of the bed, again. This time he’s wearing his own pajamas, and there are clothes for tomorrow in the backpack that’s on the floor by Davey’s dresser.

Something about how much more intentional this is than last time is really getting to Jack. He doesn’t regret agreeing to stay – he’s had his share of nights when he just wished he had someone who cared about him enough to hold him and take care of him and tell him things will be okay, and if he can do that for Davey he’s damn well going to. No matter what they are to each other, he’s going to be here for Davey.

But, like.

What the fuck are they to each other?

They’re friends, they’re best friends. But Jack’s got some other feelings going on that he’s trying to ignore which is –

_Fine._

And sometimes he catches Davey looking at him in a way that makes his heart skip and he wonders if maybe Davey’s got some other feelings going on, too.

But now of all times is not the fucking time to wonder about it. Not when Davey’s in this state, _especially_ over his last love.

Not when Davey is trusting him to see him at his worst and take care of him.

Davey shifts closer to Jack, and Jack opens his arm to let Davey curl up against him.

“Thank you,” Davey says softly into the dark.

“You don’t have to thank me, Davey,” Jack answers.

“You’re here,” says Davey, “that means the world to me, Jackie.”

“Of course I’m here,” says Jack. “I’m your friend, I love you.”

Davey makes a sad little sound and settles a little more heavily against Jack. “I don’t think I need to tell you that that isn’t something I take for granted.”

Jack brings a hand up to smooth over Davey’s curls, shifting his head a little so his cheek presses against Davey’s forehead. “No, I s’pose you don’t.”

Jack isn’t sure how long they lay there, quietly holding each other, before he falls asleep. All he knows is that he wakes up sometime later and it’s still fully nighttime, but he is _parched_.

He slips out of bed as quietly as possible, although disentangling himself from Davey’s limbs without waking him is a slow process. He creeps out of the bedroom, meaning to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

Jack doesn’t know what time it is, but he and Davey went to bed late enough that he’s shocked to find Les sitting up and reading by lamplight in bed.

“Les?”

“Jack.”

“You good, bud?”

“I can’t sleep. Too angry.”

Jack gets a glass from the cupboard and fills it, frowning over at Les. “Angry?”

“With Sarah,” Les says, dropping his voice even lower than the whisper he’d already been using. “And Kath, I guess, but like – God, how could she?”

Jack shrugs. “Love makes people make weird decisions, I guess.”

“Bad decisions.” Les snaps his book shut. “Katherine hurt David, and then she lied about it for four years.”

“Davey says lying about it was his idea,” Jack reminds him.

Les waves him off. “If Kathy thought it wouldn’t’ve made a difference, she would’ve said something. But, like, _fuck_. I thought my sister was smarter than that, even if she _doesn’t_ care how fucking shattered David was after. Katherine picked up and left a serious relationship once, what’s gonna stop her from doing it to Sarah, too?”

Jack rounds the peninsula, and leans on the back of one of the armchairs. “I don’t think she would. For better or worse, Kath’s in this for the long haul.”

“It’s worse,” says Les.

“Yeah,” Jack says, a little shakily. “I think it might be.”

Les picks at his blanket for a moment. “We’re gonna have to tell the kids something, even if it’s not in detail. They can tell something’s up – Soze asked me, like, three times today why you looked so worried when you guys came over, and Leah – God, Leah lives in this house, of course she knows something’s up.”

“Fuck, okay,” says Jack. “I’ll talk about it with Davey in the morning.”

He sets his glass on the counter and moves back toward Davey’s room, but he freezes in his tracks when Les speaks again.

“Jack? What are you to David, really?”

Jack turns, but doesn’t quite met Les’s eye. “I’m not really sure.”

“That’s incredibly reassuring,” Les says, dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t have to tell you to be careful, do I?”

“No.”

“Because, Jack, I see how he looks at you. I’ve never seen that look on his face before and I – I can’t watch him get hurt again,” Les says.

“I won’t hurt him, Les. I swear.”

“I don’t think you will.” Les runs his fingers through his hair, taking a slow breath, before he speaks again. “I see how you look at him, too.”

The conversation ends there. Les picks his book up again, and Jack goes back into Davey’s room.

Jack feels uncomfortably _seen_ right now – like despite his best effort to keep how he’s feeling under wraps, it’s somehow creeping out into the world.

There is, maybe, a distressingly large part of Jack that’s caught up on one thing Les said.

_I see how he looks at you._

But even if Davey is interested in Jack the way Jack is increasingly interested in Davey, it can’t go anywhere.

Because Jack cannot be the person who breaks Davey’s heart again, and the only way to avoid that is to not let himself get that close.

He crawls back into bed next to Davey, who reaches sleepily for him and pulls him close again once he’s settled.

The thing is, half asleep and wrapped around Davey Jacobs, it becomes a lot harder not to let himself fall in love.

\--

Jack wakes the next morning to find Davey already awake, running his fingers idly through Jack’s hair.

“Good morning,” Jack says softly, trying not to startle Davey.

“Good morning,” says Davey. “It’s still early.”

Jack hums. “So we can stay here a little longer?”

“We can,” Davey replies.

“Good,” says Jack. He leans into Davey’s touch a little. “Because I am comfy and I don’t wanna move.”

Davey gives him a little half smile for that. “Neither do I.”

“How you feelin’, Davey?” Jack asks seriously. He’s still sleepy, but this cuts through with laser focus.

“Not great,” Davey says. “But better. Better for spending yesterday with my favorite people. Better for you being here.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Davey.”

“Yeah, Jack, I – I know.”

And then Davey does something.

In the moment, Jack is nothing but happy. It’s a natural extension of the moment they’re having – just soft and quiet and gentle and warm. Jack’s brain is sleepy and fuzzy and content and it’s not until later that it he really fully processes it.

Later, the full force of what happened will hit Jack like a freight train. It will settle in Jack’s chest like a weight, dragging him down into a lake of anxiety and fear. Because –

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

Davey kisses Jack.


	8. (static)

So the thing is, Jack has thought about that sleepy early morning kiss approximately nine thousand times since it happened.

It wasn’t a long kiss, and there was only the one. But it was soft and sweet and everything Jack thought kissing Davey might be, on the rare occasions he let himself think about kissing Davey. It left Jack feeling fuzzy and happy and warm and he’d spent the next hour or so still tangled in Davey’s limbs, their foreheads pressed together, having a sleepy whispered conversation about the day to come. It was easy and domestic and perfect.

But it was also a mistake.

Oh, boy, was it a mistake.

“Dad?” Sawyer says, tugging on Jack’s shirt. “Dad! You’re burning the grilled cheese.”

“Shoot!” says Jack. He flips the sandwich. It’s a little bit overdone (maybe a lot overdone) but should be edible still.

“You’re so distracted today,” Sawyer says, shaking their head. “You gotta stay focused, Dad.”

“You’re right, bud, I was just lost in my head,” Jack replies. He ruffles Sawyer’s hair.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” Jack lies. “What makes you ask that?”

“Because you’ve been doin’ that a lot lately,” says Sawyer. They shrug. “Gettin’ lost.”

Jack slides the grilled cheese onto a plate. Then he pulls his kid into a hug. “I’m sorry, Soy. I don’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. Would you tell me if something was wrong, Dad?”

“If I felt like it was something you needed to know,” Jack tells them honestly. “But otherwise I don’t want you worrying over something out of your control.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Sawyer asks. Jack is once again blindsided by how intelligent and empathetic his child is, and just completely overwhelmed by love for them. “Worrying over something that’s out of your control?”

Jack kisses the top of Sawyer’s head. “Yeah, I guess it is. Go eat your dinner.”

\--

Jack has been making excuses not to tag along when Sawyer goes over to play with Leah for the last two weeks or so.

He’s sure that Davey kissing him was some half-awake decision spurred on by how emotionally charged the day before had been, and by how nice that moment of sleepy intimacy had felt. And if that’s the case then Davey is probably regretting it and if Davey is regretting it, Jack can’t look him in the eye. Jack can’t have that conversation.

And if Davey isn’t regretting it he should be.

Jack doesn’t know how to tell Davey that they shouldn’t get involved because that’s the worst possible decision in the world and it has nothing at all to do with Davey and everything to do with Jack.

Davey is so smart and funny and beautiful and he deserves somebody who could give him the entire world, and not somebody who’s absolute poison for relationships. He’s already had his whole world torn to pieces by a lover before. And that’s a pain that’s still, almost six years later, an open, bleeding wound.

Jack is not going to be the person who breaks Davey’s heart again.

He’s not going to be the person who hurts him.

And the only way not to hurt him is to not let himself get involved, because he’s –

Fuck, five and a half years of making peace with himself and trying to wrap his head around the idea that he’s not a completely worthless, horrible person really did just go right out the window when it came to potentially actually dating again, didn’t it?

There is a small part of Jack that has its own concerns about _his_ heart – the fact is that Davey is far, far too good for Jack, and if Jack doesn’t fuck everything up then Davey will _realize_ that he’s so much better than Jack and it will end that way. Jack doesn’t think he can take that any more than the idea that he might be the source of more heartbreak for his favorite person in the world. Because, like, despite Jack’s best efforts, Davey _is_ his favorite person (save Sawyer, of course).

Jack has spent the last few months falling completely, unavoidably in love with Davey Jacobs and he didn’t even _notice_ until it was entirely too late.

All Jack can think to do is pull away as much as is possible, as much as he can stand. Their kids are still best friends, and Jack wouldn’t want to stop Sawyer from playing with Leah for anything short of the apocalypse, so there’s still that point of contact. But as much as Jack can, he’s avoiding Davey personally.

Because, inevitably, if he had to spend any significant time with Davey, he would say something painfully stupid.

Or maybe just painful.

One way or another, Jack can’t talk to Davey at length right now.

He hasn’t figured out what to say. He’s more than a little worried that even if he did figure out what to say, even if he planned out a whole speech or something, he’d get there and he’d look at Davey, right into those gorgeous blue eyes, and he’d blurt out something he shouldn’t say.

_I love you_ , he might say. _God, Davey, I love you so fucking much and it terrifies me._

So he’s making every excuse he can not to spend time with Davey. Definitely not – as he reluctantly turns down an offer to meet for lunch – time _alone_ with Davey.

Spot shows up on Jack’s doorstep going into week three of this. Sawyer is at the Jacobses’, having a playdate with Leah. Jack is home, trying to convince himself to read.

“Are you avoiding David?” Spot asks by way of greeting, having let himself into Jack’s apartment and flopped onto the big squishy armchair across from Jack on the couch.

“No, why?”

“I’m sorry, I should rephrase,” says Spot. “ _Why_ are you avoiding David?”

“I’m not –“

“You are. I haven’t seen you in, like three weeks. Spill.”

“Maybe I’m avoiding _you_ , huh?” Jack says. He can’t bring himself to meet Spot’s eye. “Ever think of that?”

“You’re not so theatrical about it when you avoid me,” Spot says, crossing his arms. “Jack.”

“Spot –“

“Be straight with me for, like, two fucking seconds, Jack Kelly!” snaps Spot. “I know something’s up, okay? You’re my brother and I love you, and I care what’s going on in that stupid head of yours. Just fucking tell me what’s wrong!”

Jack is caught, momentarily, entirely off guard by this statement. It’s not that he didn’t think Spot loved him, it’s just – it’s been a long, long time since they were close, and in high school Spot had never been the type just come out and say he loved his siblings. Well, Jack, at least. Spot’s always had a soft spot for Smalls. Still, he blames his honesty on how startled he is to hear it. “Davey kissed me, Spot.”

“What?” Spot says. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Really?”

“Yeah,” says Jack.

“Is that a bad thing for some reason?” Spot asks. He’s frowning. “You’re obviously into him.”

“Spot,” Jack says. “It’s not that simple.”

“Explain it to me,” Spot says flatly.

“First of all, it was probably, like, some poorly thought out spur-of-the-moment thing,” Jack tells him. “It was the morning after – after the day we all spent at your place, you know? The morning after I slept over.” He threads his fingers through his hair, just holding on and trying to ground himself. “Emotions were – were running high, and he was probably just feeling – I don’t know. Like he wanted _something_. Some kinda fuck you to Kath and Sarah.”

“Kath and Sarah weren’t there,” Spot replies.

“I dunno, Spot, like a _see, I can move on, too_.”

“Sarah and Katherine _weren’t there_. And David isn’t telling anybody this happened. That sorta contradicts your theory.”

“A’course Davey ain’t telling anybody it happened,” Jack says quietly.

“I’m sure because he wants to talk about it with _you_ ,” Spot says.

“Or because he regrets it,” says Jack. “Because he knows I’m bad news.”

“That’s a joke, right?” says Spot. He actually laughs. “You’re joking.”

“You know damn well that every relationship I’ve ever had has crashed and fucking burned, Spot!”

“That is a _massive_ overstatement.”

“Wh- the fucking exes club begs to differ, Spot!”

“I can count the number of actual trainwreck relationships you’ve had on one hand,” Spot says. “And, given the number of relationships you’ve had total, I think that’s a pretty good statistic. Jack, you broke up with Al DaSilva because he got too busy to date. That ain’t exactly what I’d call a crash and burn. Crutchie dated you _twice_ and is still your best friend over a decade later.”

“Doesn’t matter,” says Jack. “I’m still fucking poisonous to relationships. I can’t do that to Dave, not when everything with Kath is still so raw. It’s not a good idea.”

“Jack, I don’t really think it’s your job to decide what is or isn’t a good idea for David,” Spot says.

“Isn’t it? Davey doesn’t know what – he’s never seen – Spot, I don’t want to hurt him,” Jack says, a little desperately. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Then don’t,” says Spot, shrugging.

“It’s not that easy, Spot.”

“Isn’t it?” Spot shifts forward on his chair a little, tipping his head thoughtfully to one side. “You don’t want to hurt him, great. So don’t. Stop worrying about what you _might_ do, what _might_ happen, and think about what you’re doing right now – you’re doing your best to drop the fuck out of his life at a time when he needs as much support as we can give him. You know how many times I’ve seen him fall apart in my husband’s arms these last few weeks?”

“I – no.”

“It’s a lot, Jack,” says Spot. “A lot. Because you’re right; everything with Kath’s been dug up again and he’s feeling raw and hurt and emotional, and he fucking _loves you_ and you just up and disappeared.”

Hot, guilty tears are welling up in Jack’s eyes. “Spot, I can’t –“

“Can’t _what_ , Jack?”

“He shouldn’t,” Jack says. “He shouldn’t love me.”

“We don’t get to pick that shit, Jackie boy,” says Spot. “It just happens, and we have to go along for the ride.”

“Spot, what if you’re wrong, huh?” says Jack. “What if he regrets it?”

“I don’t think he does.”

“I can’t take that risk.”

“What scares you more? The idea that he doesn’t love you, or the chance that he does?”

Jack makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat. “Fuck, I don’t know. That he does, I guess. I’m not good enough for –“

“Nope,” Spot cuts him off. “Nuh-uh, nobody talks down about my baby brother like that.” He shakes his head. “Jack, you aren’t the person you were ten years ago. You’re not even the person you were in college. Maybe that Jack might’a been bad news for Davey, but the Jack I know now? The Jack I know now is one’a the most caring, thoughtful people I’ve ever met. He’s a dedicated father and a good friend, and I am so damn proud to call him my brother I can hardly even believe he’s the same man who I once watched sled directly into the only tree in the entire field.”

There are definitely still tears in Jack’s eyes now, but they’re not guilty tears anymore.

“Jack, you’ve grown so much,” Spot says gently. “You’re good enough to be loved, you always have been. You just gotta let him in.”

Jack rubs his eyes, trying to catch his breath again. “Thanks, Spot.”

Spot stands up. “C’mere.”

“What?”

“Get up and get over here,” Spot says. His tone leaves no room for argument.

Jack stands, and once he’s within arm’s reach, Spot pulls him into a tight hug.

Spot’s hugs are few and far between – he’s not an especially physically affectionate person, preferring to have his own space and express his love and approval from a few feet away with silent eyebrow movements or nods – but they’re also among the best hugs Jack’s ever received from anyone. Jack has about five inches of height on Spot, so they don’t starfish hug – Spot just locks both of his arms around Jack’s waist and Jack wraps his own arms around Spot’s neck and he lets himself be held. They stand like that for a while. Jack’s sure Spot knows he’s still crying, but he can’t bring himself to care.

And oh, God, is Jack crying.

Spot has always been patient, and he waits for Jack to cry himself out. One of his hands is stroking soothingly up and down Jack’s spine. He doesn’t say anything, the way Race usually does when he comfort hugs people, and Jack finds he doesn’t miss the constant stream of mumbled reassurances.

When Jack finally steps back out of his brother’s arms, he gives Spot a shaky smile. “Thanks.”

Spot punches him lightly on the shoulder. “Get’cha shit together.”

“Yeah, I’ll – I’ll try.”

“Do or do not, padawan. There is no try.”

“Oh, God, I hate you. Does Racer know he married such a goddamn nerd?”

“It’s Star Wars, man, it’s mainstream.”

Jack laughs, still a little teary but genuine. “Hey, Sean?”

“Yeah, Jack?” Spot replies.

“Thanks,” Jack repeats.

“You’re welcome,” Spot says, completely sincere. “I love you, Jack. You deserve to be happy.”

“If you say so,” Jack says. “I love you, too.”

\--

The thing is, Jack still feels a little sick to his stomach at the idea of actually talking to Davey.

He trusts Spot’s judgment and assessment of the situation, but like.

It’s still fucking terrifying.

So it’s Saturday, it’s been a little shy of a month since Jack saw Davey in person, and he’s currently making yet another shitty excuse to avoid being in the same room.

“Yeah, Soy would love to come over,” Jack says, his phone pinned between his cheek and his shoulder.

“What about you, Jackie?” Davey asks. “You haven’t come around in a while.”

“I’ve been busy,” says Jack, even though the lie makes him feel a little nauseous.

“Don’t work yourself into the ground, okay?” says Davey. “Are you sure you can’t come along today?”

“I’ve got a – a commission deadline coming up,” Jack says. “Gotta paint all day if I’m gonna meet it. Sorry, Davey. Next time.”

“Yeah,” Davey says, sounding disappointed. “Next time.”

Jack drops Sawyer off at the Jacobses’ building and hightails it back to his apartment. He buries himself in painting, but not a commission. He doesn’t have any of those on the horizon.

No, this is a good old fashioned Jack Kelly vent painting.

(It’s a fucking desert landscape, because he’s _that_ deep in his head and old habits die hard.)

It’s one of those things he’s done a thousand times, and it comes easy. Canvas out, paints out, just _go_.

He can lose himself in a painting like this, in getting the sky just so and the clouds – because it’s a stormy day, because Jack is fucking _scrambled_ – and the ground and the handful of plants.

It’s all broad strokes and tiny details and muscle memory because this is a scene like so many he’s painted before. It feels a lot like taking a nap, because he finds he’s sort of turning his brain off to the rest of the world and just wrapping himself up in the art.

It’s been a long time since Jack felt the need to do a piece like this.

He doesn’t want to hurt Davey.

He doesn’t want to get hurt.

Spot’s words from last week float back through Jack’s brain on and off all day.

_What scares you more? The idea that he doesn’t love you? Or the chance that he does?_

It’s all he can fucking think about.

He finishes his painting, steps back, and realizes he feels –

The same.

Fucking shit, really?

Okay, new tactic. Jack’s going to flop himself onto the couch, turn on some movie he can mostly tune out of, and he’s going to sketch. Sketching comes easy, it’s mindless, and he’ll come out on the other side feeling a little better.

(Please, God, let him come out on the other side feeling a little better.)

He sketches his family, because that’s what he always seems to default to.

Sawyer, flipping carefully through a Rubix Cube.

Crutchie grinning at Albert, like he had the other night over dinner.

Race, stretching on the floor.

Spot, frowning at Jack like he had the last time they’d talked in person. Jack stares down at this one and can practically hear his brother’s voice saying, _explain it to me._ He flips the page.

He draws Frankie, in a little kid version of the same pose he’d drawn Race in.

He draws Les, a long-suffering smile on his face and lopsided pigtails in his hair, courtesy of Leah and Sawyer about two months ago.

He draws Leah, with her blinding grin and heavily freckled cheeks.

And then he can’t resist anymore and he draws Davey – reading, smiling, laughing, texting, carrying Leah with their heads bent toward each other in quiet conversation, and then –

Fuck it.

Jack draws Davey wearing that soft, sleepy smile that’s been haunting him since he saw it last. It’s a look he’s really only seen on Davey once, but it’s burned into his eyeballs and he’s never going to forget it.

Davey is always beautiful, in Jack’s opinion, but that morning was something else entirely. The sunrise had just been creeping in through Davey’s bedroom window, and he’d looked at Jack with so much love in his eyes that Jack had just about melted.

He thinks, maybe, he’s captured that on paper.

Jack sits there, staring at that last sketch of Davey, for a very long time.

And then he closes his sketchbook with a _snap_ and tosses it aside, curling in on himself.

Somebody rings the doorbell.

Jack takes a second to pull himself together. He’s not sure where his phone is, so maybe whoever it is had called ahead and he missed it but one way or another somebody is here and to say that Jack looks like a wreck is probably putting it mildly. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to order it after hours and hours of messing it up in frustration. He straightens his shirt, which is covered in paint but that’s not a problem he feels like solving.

He answers the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s David,” Davey’s voice says, crackly but recognizable over the shitty intercom speakers. “Can I come in?”

Shit.

“Yeah, just give me, like, two seconds,” Jack replies. He grabs a pillow and screams into it for a moment. Then he buzzes Davey in.

A moment later, there’s a knock at the door. Davey looks tired, a little worn out.

He also looks angry.

“Hi, Davey.”

“Hi, Jackie. I think we need to talk.”


	9. desert skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're gonna TALK about our FEELINGS okay, boys???

“So, uh, how’s it going?” Jack asks, and it’s so forced it’s almost physically painful.

“I don’t know, Jackie, you tell me,” Davey replies. His voice is a little brittle, a little pained. It’s killing Jack to know that it’s his fault Davey sounds like that.

They stand there, staring at each other, for a very long time. At least it feels like a very long time. It might only be a few seconds. It’s one of those moments where time sort of ceases to exist for a while, leaving Jack and Davey suspended in midair, completely frozen. Jack is taking in all of Davey despite his deepest wish being to tear his eyes away – he sees the tired eyes, the messy hair that looks like it’s been combed through with his fingers a hundred times today, the shitty touristy New York City souvenir t-shirt and worn jeans that Davey never wears if he’s planning to leave the house. Jack drinks in all of Davey’s appearance, then opens his mouth to speak. Davey cuts him off.

“Davey, I –“

“Your kid ratted you out.”

“What?”

“I asked Sawyer about your commission, because they love talking about your art,” Davey says slowly. “And your child looked up at me and said ‘what? Dad doesn’t have a commission right now. Uncle Spot says he’s _moping_.’” Davey presses his mouth into a thin line for a moment, his hands coming up like he’s going to sweep them through his hair and then falling to his sides without doing it. “You’re avoiding me, Jack.”

“I’m not –“

“You are! It’s been a _month_ , Jack! A month of shitty excuses not to see me, every one worse than the last. The fuck am I supposed to think?” Davey snaps. He drags his fingers through his hair again. “If this is about that kiss then – then I’m sorry. I know I overstepped, I shouldn’t have done it, but you could’ve fucking talked to me! _Davey, that made me uncomfortable_ , that’s all you had to fucking say!”

“It’s not like that,” Jack says.

“What’s it like, then, Jackie?” says Davey. “What’s it like, because I don’t – I don’t understand.”

“It’s complicated.”

“You’re the one making it complicated!” There’s a desperation in Davey’s voice that Jack hasn’t heard there before. “Jack – _Jackie_ – you’re the one – fuck, Jack. Talk to me, please. It’s been a month since you really did and I _miss_ you.”

“Davey,” Jack say softly. Davey meets his eye, and oh _fucking hell_ Jack can see tears there. “Davey, I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

Jack holds a hand out to Davey. He takes it, tentatively, and lets Jack lead him to the couch. They sit facing each other, Davey with his feet tucked under him and Jack with one knee pulled up to his chest.

“I am so, so unbelievably sorry. I’ve been a really shitty friend to you these last few weeks, I know I have,” Jack says.

“No shit,” says Davey.

“I miss you, too,” says Jack.

“Why’d you do it, Jackie?” Davey asks quietly. “Why disappear?”

“You gotta promise you won’t hate me, Davey.”

“I could never hate you, Jack.”

Jack sweeps his hands through his hair. He wonders if Davey knows he never used to do that before they met. “Davey, I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

“You have a really funny way of showing it.”

“Yeah, well, you fucking terrify me, so –“

“I what?”

“Scare the hell out of me.”

“Why?”

“Davey –“

“No, Jack, you don’t get to duck this. You said it, fucking own it.” Davey twists a curl just below his ear around his fingertips. “I scare you?”

Jack looks down at the rip in the knee of his jeans. There’s paint speckling the fabric, some of it older than his friendship with Davey. “More than anything. More than parenting.”

“Why?” Davey asks again, just barely audibly.

“Why not?” says Jack. He doesn’t look at Davey, still talking more or less to his knee. “Every relationship I’ve ever had – and that is _not_ a small number – has ended with heartbreak. Not all of them have been horrible, but it always hurts. And it always ends. And I’m so scared if I let myself go there with you, I’ll get hurt again. Or worse, you will.”

“Jack –“

“No, you wanted to hear this, I’m telling you,” Jack says. “You scare me because through nineteen different relationships over the course of ten years, I never met anybody who made me feel the way you do. You scare me because you were my best friend before I even realized how gone I was over you. You scare me because I looked up one day and realized that Soy and I were part of a whole family without ever trying.” He sighs, finally looking up to meet Davey’s gaze. “You scare me, David Jacobs, because you deserve someone so much better than me, but if you met that person, I – I don’t think I could take it.”

“You’re such an idiot, Jackie,” Davey says fondly.

“I bare my soul, you call me an idiot,” says Jack. He doesn’t care, though, because he’ll be any kind of fool to win that beautiful smile of Davey’s.

“I just mean – I understand,” says Davey. “But you could’ve told me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Jack replies. “I couldn’t, because I couldn’t even get myself to look at you. I was so afraid you regretted –“

“Here’s me, thinking I’d misread everything,” Davey says. “Thinking I’d crossed a line you didn’t want me crossing and couldn’t figure out how to fucking tell me but no – you _liked_ me, and you decided to handle it like a fucking fifth grader.”

“Why did you do it, Davey?”

“Why do you think?” Davey asks. He shrugs. “I love you. I think I have for a while, definitely longer than I’ve been sure of it. I was just laying there with you, looking at you, and thinking _God, if this moment never ends it’ll be too soon_.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Davey smiles faintly, his gaze a little distant. “It’s funny, actually.”

“What’s funny?”

“You’ve been avoiding me because you’re afraid,” Davey says. “Jack, I kissed you because for once in my goddamn life I wasn’t afraid.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I got hurt, Jack. I let somebody in and I got torn to ribbons, and I’ve been trying to pull myself back together again for _years_ ,” says Davey. He’s still got that faraway look in his eye, like he’s looking at Jack but not really _seeing_ him. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but, like. Before you wandered into my life it had been ages since I last even let in a new _friend_. I cut off the friends I’d had and I – I was so afraid that if I met someone new they’d hurt me, too.”

Jack can see the exact moment when Davey’s eyes focus again. They’re fixed on Jack’s, and Jack is almost sure that Davey can see right through to Jack’s soul.

“You’re like nobody I’ve ever met, Jack,” Davey says. “You’re so damn talented, you’re smarter than you ever let on, you’re still figuring out how to be a father but aren’t we all, really?”

Jack laughs. “Don’t I know it.”

“You dropped into my life and my family and my heart and it was like you’d always been there,” says Davey. “And I think if someone had told me that was going to happen, the idea would’ve been terrifying. But you’re – fuck, you’re _Jack_ , and I trust you. I love you. And whatever your history is – whatever bad luck you’ve had – I’m not afraid of you.”

“I love you,” Jack says quietly. “I trust you. I really – I’m so sorry, Davey. I really fucked this up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure I should forgive you.”

“What were you expecting when you came over?”

“Not this.”

“Were you just going to yell at me and then leave?”

“Something like that.” He combs through his curls again. “Maybe I still should.”

“Yell at me, or leave?”

“Both.”

“Yell all you want, but –“

“But what, Jackie?”

“Stay? For a while?”

Davey sighs. “For a while.”

Jack reaches for his sketchbook, which is still exactly where he left it on the floor. He opens it silently to the last few pages, the ones he did today, and hands it over to Davey.

“Is this – are these me?” Davey asks, flipping through. He goes back enough to find the slightly silly one of Les, and the ones of the kids and Jack’s brothers, then flips back forward through to the ones of himself.

“A slightly embarrassing number are, yeah,” says Jack. “I draw you almost as much as I draw Sawyer.”

Jack draws his child at least once a day.

Davey _knows_ this.

It’s a confession all by itself.

Davey’s breath catches when he reaches the last sketch. Jack can’t see it, with the angle Davey’s holding the book, but he knows.

“Jack,” Davey says softly.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about you lookin’ at me like that, like you _loved me,_ since that morning,” Jack tells him, just as soft. “I couldn’t look you in the eye, Davey, because I was afraid I wasn’t going to see that look there again.”

That look is there now, though. Davey’s features have softened from concern and frustration to something unmistakable as anything but love. He has a small, sweet smile on his lips, one that reaches all the way to his eyes, which are still fixed on Jack with none of the irritation that had been there when they sat down. His whole posture has relaxed.

Tentatively, Jack slides a little closer to Davey on the couch.

Davey slides a little closer, too, to meet him.

“What about now, Jackie?” Davey asks. He’s leaning close, very close. Jack can see every faint freckle on his nose. “Are you still afraid?”

Jack leans in, too – not for a kiss, but to gently press his forehead against Davey’s. “No. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m not sure how I ever was.”

“Squishy vulnerable parts,” Davey says, a little distantly. “Anybody would be.”

“You weren’t.”

“You make me feel brave, Jackie.”

“I’ll be bad for you.”

“I don’t think you will.”

“What if I ruin everything?”

“You won’t.”

“How are you so calm?”

“Scar tissue is stronger, I guess.”

“That’s kinda grim, love.”

Davey shrugs. “It’s true. And anyway, Les trusts you.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Jack asks. He’s got a loose idea, but he’s a little surprised to hear Davey mentioning it out loud.

“Les might be younger, but he’s incredibly protective,” says Davey. “It’s a little embarrassing, honestly. But he’s been telling me to go for it with you for months.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Not to mention Sean and Tony –“

“ _Really_?”

“Shockingly, the people in our lives have noticed the ‘mushy heart eyes’ we keep giving each other,” Davey says with a small laugh. “Those are Tony’s exact words, by the way.”

“God, I love that man,” says Jack, also laughing. “I really am the idiot here, aren’t I?”

“I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“My kid’s noticed, too,” Jack admits.

“They’re a smart kid, your little Soybean,” says Davey.

“So is Leah,” replies Jack. “The last time I saw her she asked why I was making you frown so much lately. I said I wasn’t sure what she meant because I hadn’t seen you in a while and your five-year-old said, and I quote, _‘uh, yeah. That’s what I mean.’”_

Davey grins. “We raise them as siblings and we’d get no peace.”

“We already get no peace,” says Jack. “Is that you proposing to me, Davey Jacobs?”

“It’s me asking you on a date, how’s that?”

“I’d love to go on a date with you. I think we might’ve been doing that for a while, though.”

“This time on purpose. No kids, not lunch on a work day. Like, a Thursday night.”

“Ooh, Thursday night. How romantic.”

“Are you in?”

“You spend too much time with Racer.”

“Jackie.”

“Yes, Davey, I’m in. I’d love to go on a Thursday night date with you. And then spend the next night snuggled up on your couch talking about whatever movie our kids pick.” Jack hums thoughtfully. “Speaking of, what the hell did you do with our kids?”

“Sean and Tony have them,” Davey says dismissively. “They’re fine.”

“I trust Spot and Race with my life and my child, but _they’re fine_ is the least reassuring way you could possibly have said that.”

“They are!”

Jack snorts. “Yeah, I know. Does that mean we’ve got time?”

“How much time you talkin’, Kelly?”

“Enough for this?” Jack says, his tone hopeful, then he presses his lips to Davey’s.

Davey pulls back just a breath. “Yes, plenty of time for that.”

Then he kisses Jack.

They don’t talk for a while after that.


	10. Dad Regular Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am completely blown away by the response this fic has gotten. I just want every single one of you who's read this to know that I appreciate you and all of your supports and kind words!  
> Special thanks to Interpolations & JewishDavidJacobs, who are enablers that encourage my angstiest concepts any time I come up with them. Here's something happy, just for you two :)

“You look happy,” Katherine says at work. They’re working on a project together. It’s the first one they’ve been assigned to each other for since everything came out in December. “Hot date tonight?”

She’s teasing, it feels more or less normal, except –

“Yeah, actually,” Jack replies.

“Wait, really?” says Katherine, stunned. “ _You?”_

“I know, right?” says Jack.

“That makes this, what, you first date in six years?”

“Just about.”

“Wow,” says Katherine. “Wow. Whoever finally changed your mind’s gotta be one hell of a person.”

“Yeah, he is,” Jack says. He looks down at the desktop, biting down on his lip to keep himself from smiling too widely. He’s completely blown away that he’s gotten this chance with Davey, but there’s no need to get too worked up over it at work. Too bad it’s already all he can think about. “He’s really incredible.”

“Do I know your mystery man?” Katherine asks, elbowing him.

“I – yeah,” Jack says. He considers for a moment, before telling her, “It’s Davey, actually.”

“Oh,” says Katherine. There’s something unreadable in her expression for a moment before it settles into a slightly shaky smile. “Oh, of _course_ it is. I should’ve known.” She sets her hand on Jack’s where it’s resting on the table. “You two are going to be so good for each other. You already are.”

“I try to be,” Jack replies.

“Look, Jack – I’m not – I’m not going to tell you to be good to him, or to take care of him, because I know I’m the last person in the world with any right to ask that of you. And I know you will, anyway,” Katherine says, all in a rush like she’s thinking faster than her mouth can move. “But – but Jack. Hold on, okay?”

The last few words come out so soft and sad that Jack’s heart aches a little for her.

“Yeah, Kathy, I’m planning to.”

\--

Sawyer is spending their evening at Spot and Race’s, so Jack is planning to take them over and exchange them for Davey quite soon.

Right now, though, the Kellys are in Jack’s bedroom, while Jack tries to decide what to wear. Sawyer is perched at the foot of Jack’s bed, watching their dad dig through his closet for the right shirt.

(The problem being, at the moment, that Jack has no idea what the right shirt should be.)

“Dad,” Sawyer says seriously, in a slightly raised voice by Sawyer standards. “Chill.”

Jack drags his fingers through his hair. “Buddy, we are _well past_ chill.”

“Yeah, Dad,” says Sawyer. “I can see that.”

“This is hard!”

“It’s a shirt,” Sawyer says flatly.

“It’s not just the shirt, this all feels like a really big deal,” Jack admits.

Sawyer shrugs. “It’s just Davey. Just ‘cause you finally admitted you’re all mushy over each other doesn’t mean he’s suddenly gonna start carin’ what shirt you wear.”

“What?”

“Dad,” Sawyer says, “Davey’s seen you covered in paint and in your pajamas. At least once both of those at the same time. I don’t think it matters what shirt you wear on your dumb date.”

“It’s not dumb,” Jack mutters, turning back toward the closet.

Sawyer laughs. “F’you say so.” They pause for a moment, and Jack can hear them kicking their feet against the mattress. “Do you have a blue one? Bee said her dad’s favorite color is blue.”

“That is the most helpful thing you’ve said all night,” says Jack. He pulls a dusty blue button down out of the closet, turning back toward Sawyer. “I’m kidding, Soze. You’re not wrong; I’m sure Dave wouldn’t care, I just – _I_ want this to be perfect, you know?”

Sawyer hops off of the bed, coming over to pat Jack’s arm a few times. “I think you’re gonna come home and say it was perfect no matter what. You get to spend the whole night bein’ gross and mushy with Davey, you love doin’ that.”

“When did you get so smart, Sawyer?”

“I’ve _been_ smart, Dad.”

Jack ruffles their hair. “Yeah, you have. Now go get’cha stuff for Frankie’s, I’ll finish gettin’ changed, and then we can go.”

Before Jack knows it, they’re outside the building the Jacobses and Higgins-Conlons live in, and it’s _time_.

“Be good for your uncles,” Jack says a little absently. “We won’t be out too late, it’s a school night.”

Sawyer nods. “Have fun on your _daaaaate_.”

Jack makes to ruffle their hair again, but they duck his hand.

Davey comes outside, pausing to let Sawyer run in through the front doors. He stops facing Jack, a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey, Jackie,” Davey says.

“Hey, Davey,” Jack replies.

“You look really good,” says Davey. “That’s a good color on you.”

“You can thank my kid for that,” Jack says, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding Davey’s eye. “Left to my own devices I’d probably be staring at my closet in a panic.”

Davey laughs, but it’s not an unkind laugh. Davey laughs at things Jack does a lot, but it never feels like he’s laughing at _Jack_. “Thank God for Sawyer Kelly, then.” He shakes his head. “Aren’t you cold? With your jacket open like that?”

Jack shrugs. “Hey, I’m born and bred for Chicago winters, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You say that now,” says Davey. “But if you try to hold my hand with your icy fingers later, Mr. Isn’t-Wearing-Gloves –“

“You’ll whine, but you’ll hold my hand anyway,” Jack says.

Davey sighs. “I’ll whine, but I’ll hold your hand anyway.”

Jack laughs. “How about a head start? My hands aren’t cold yet.”

Davey holds a hand out to Jack, who threads their fingers together.

“Your definition of cold and mine are not the same,” Davey says, a hint of playful complaining in his voice.

“I could let go?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Jack leans over and kisses Davey’s cheek. “Good.”

Dinner is shockingly normal. It’s a little nicer than they usually do when they eat out together, but they talk about all the same sorts of things they always talk about. It’s easy, so easy, to talk to Davey.

The conversation meanders from work to their kids to movies to their kids to Jack’s art to books to muttering perplexedly about the conversation at the table next to theirs to their kids to a long, rambling rant about etymology to their kids.

“God, I love you,” Jack says, slightly breathlessly, over dessert.

Davey gives him a soft little half-smile. “I love you, too.”

“That’s incredible. How’d I – wow,” says Jack. “ _Wow_.”

“Wow,” Davey echoes. He taps his fingertips against the tabletop. “I can’t believe I was so nervous about this date.”

_“You_ were nervous?”

“Incredibly. I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it from Les,” Davey says with a small laugh. “But I shouldn’t have been. It’s _you_ ; I know how to spend time with you. I love spending time with you.”

“Well that’s a relief,” says Jack, grinning. “Here’s me, thinking you barely tolerate me –“

“Jackie!”

“I love spending time with you, too, you know,” Jack says, much more seriously. “Whether we’re out on a date or on one of our couches or out with the kids and the boys.”

“Good,” says Davey. He holds his hand out, palm up, on the table. Jack sets his own hand on top of it. “Jack, I count myself so, so lucky to have found someone like you. Someone who fit so perfectly into the open spaces in my life, who not only loves me but loves my family. Someone who’s seen some of the worst days of my life and held me together through them. You’re someone I never expected to walk into my life, Jack Kelly, but I am forever grateful that you did.”

“Shit, Davey,” Jack says, slightly teary. “I love you, have I mentioned yet that I love you?”

Davey laughs. “Yeah, Jackie. You have. I could stand to hear it again, though.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I’m never gonna get tired of hearin’ that,” Jack says. “God, Davey – I’ve never dated anybody who makes me feel as _good_ as you do. I can’t promise that this relationship will be perfect, but I can promise to do my best, to _be_ my best as much as I can.”

“That’s all I need.”

\--

Movie night is the next night, which of course finds Jack back at Davey’s place. Sawyer, Leah, and Frankie have constructed an elaborate nest of blankets and pillows to watch the movie from, and Spot and Race have decided to join them for once. Race is sprawled on the floor, his back resting against his husband’s legs. Les has claimed his usual chair.

The really remarkable thing, the thing that makes this movie night feel different to the dozens of others Jack has spent on Davey’s couch, is how close Davey is sitting to Jack.

They’ve always had a tendency – all the way back to the very first movie night Jack and Sawyer were invited to – to drift closer and closer to each other as the movie goes on. To the point where at the end of the movie they often spring apart, startled to realize that they’ve found themselves leaning on each other, or draped across each other, or otherwise entangled.

But tonight, Davey sat down right next to Jack from the start. They’re wrapped around each other, hands entwined. Davey’s head is on Jack’s shoulder.

There’ll be no shocked, awkward jerk apart tonight.

Instead, when the movie ends, Davey tips his head back to press a lazy kiss to Jack’s jaw.

They slowly, reluctantly, pull apart from each other. They collect their respective children from the cuddle puddle on the floor.

Jack kisses Davey goodnight, with no shame or embarrassment or nerves, despite the fact that Les and Race and Spot are all watching with great interest.

“Talk to you tomorrow, love,” Jack murmurs.

“Bye, Jackie,” Davey replies.

As Jack is tucking Sawyer into bed that night, they blink up at him with their big, grey eyes. They’re not so sad anymore.

“Hey, Dad?” Sawyer says around a yawn. “Is Beah gonna be my little sister?”

Jack smiles, brushing a few stray strands of red hair away from Sawyer’s eyes. “I hope so, kiddo. I hope so.”

Sawyer smiles sleepily. “Good. I love her. And Uncle Les and Uncle Spot and Uncle Race and Frankie and Davey.”

“What about me, bud?”

“I love you most, Dad.”

“What a funny coincidence, Sawyer,” Jack says, pressing a kiss to their forehead. “I love you the most, too.”

“M’glad you and Davey are good again.”

“Me too.”

“Night, Dad.”

“Night, So-so.”

Jack quietly shuts Sawyer’s bedroom door, snagging his sketchbook off of the table before flopping onto the couch. None of this – not Sawyer, not getting close to Race and Spot again, and _definitely_ not Davey – was what Jack expected when he swore off dating five and a half years ago.

He wouldn’t give any of it up for the world.


End file.
